Levicity AKA Planet of the Dead
by BlueHawaii
Summary: The Enterprise is sent on a mission to explore Levicity, a planet that has been deserted for years. Zombie apocalypse. Kirk/McCoy.
1. Chapter 1

**Levicity AKA Planet of the Dead**

Part 1

"Captain, we will be arriving at Levicity in approximately ten minutes."

Sulu turned in his chair to face the Captain, who was lounging relaxed in his own chair. At Sulu's notice he sat up straighter and smiled lazily.

"Thank you, Sulu."

Jim grasped the arms of the chair, pulling himself completely up right. It proved to be more of a challenge than he had originally anticipated. He had been sitting there for so long now, that it was difficult to tell shirt material apart from plastic. Finally up and out of the cave-like atmosphere of the Captain's chair (it really was a large chair, even for him), Jim made his way towards the turbo lift, tugging his shirt into a more comfortable position as he moved. "You have the con, Spock." Jim managed to see the slight nod Spock sent him before the turbo lift doors slid shut.

When the doors reopened, the hallway led him to the transporter room where Scotty and two science ensigns were waiting for him. Scotty greeted him with an overly enthusiastic grin, while the ensigns stood professionally stoical on the pads.

"We're ready to beam down when you are, Captain." Scotty gushed with an unnatural amount of joy in his voice. Jim made a metal note to find out what Scotty actually did down in engineering to make him so happy, but quickly decided against it when he realised the undoubtedly scarring images that would occur from that. Best never think of it again, he thought.

A communicator and a phaser sat on top on the console Scotty was sitting behind. The ensigns were already geared up so these were obviously his. Jim quickly belted them around his waist, letting them rest comfortably on his hips, and then stepped on to the pads next to ensigns McCrae and Williams. They were waiting in place for a couple of seconds when Sulu's voice sounded in the room.

"Bridge to Captain Kirk, we are now orbiting planet Levicity. Repeat, we are now orbiting planet Levicity; feel free to start exploring."

Jim stood a little taller, set his shoulders back, and motioned to Scotty with a tilt of his head.

"Energize, Mr Scott."

"Aye, Captain."

---

Jim was surprised by the grass that materialised under his boots. He didn't quite know what he expected. He had been told that this planet was structurally very similar to Earth and grass was relatively common on Earth, but he, for some reason, envisioned this planet as a desolate wasteland. Dry dirt and dust was meant to settle under his feet, not green healthy looking vegetation.

The surprise was swiftly replaced by mouth gaping shock when he took in his surroundings. He had seen pictures of Earth from around the 21st century, and couldn't help but be wowed by their simplicity. It was nothing like how it looked today; buildings were sharp and rectangular, all made of harsh lines and angles; unlike now where everything was sleek and curved. The scene before him greatly resembled the pictures he had seen, but the main difference being that everything was deserted here. Instead of being over populated like the pictures implied, there was an obvious lack of life. The buildings high enough to scrape the sky were left lonely with no one circling their foundations. The street surrounding them were bare of people, but did have abandoned vehicles dotting them.

Everything was still, like the world had just paused. Doors were left open in peoples wake; cars waited at intersections for a change of lights that would never come; windows, though slightly dusted, still showed living rooms of empty homes. If the wind hadn't been disturbing the hair on his head, Jim would have sworn he was just looking at pictures again.

McCrae whistled loudly to Jim left. He stood with his hands on hips staring at the vast emptiness. It was a whistle to show surprise, like McCrae was impressed by the view, and Jim couldn't blame him. It was an unusual sight to say the least. Jim stepped forward. The two ensigns followed wordlessly, keeping close just in case.

The grass continued for a while, slowly behind covered by pavement until grey was all Jim could see. Weeds had overrun the place while things had been deserted. Seeing the vividly coloured signs of life slowly take over the city unsettled Jim to some extent. Where was everyone? Were they still alive? If not, what had killed them? If the plants could survive then why couldn't the people? How could it spread to everyone? They had scanned for life but the results had been scattered. Some times there were crowds of people gathering in an area, and other times the scan ended with nothing. What had happened here?

Walking through the empty streets was disconcerting. Jim kept expecting the world to suddenly un-pause and for people to spill out of the buildings. Cars would spring back to life and carry on as if they had never stopped, and people would chatter and weave around everyone else to get where they are going. Despite the emptiness, Jim still walked on the pavement, not liking the uneasy feeling he got when he followed the roads. He didn't want the cars to barrel into him when they returned to life.

McCrae and Williams seemed to be having fewer problems with the situation. They stayed close to each other and Jim like they had been trained to do, but kept dipping away to get a better look through windows and down alleyways. The itchy feeling in the back of Jim's head, warning him not to let his guard down, stopped him from joining them.

They explored for a few hours, keeping to the main streets. The scenery didn't change, for the most part. During the third hour, the ground had been littered with blank sheets of paper. The area had been turned white by the amount, and the wind barely ruffled them or turned them away. Jim looked around for the cause and found it when he spotted a broken window on one of the high floor of the tall buildings. Some sheets continued to float down, but the stream had slowed considerably. Williams made a motion to go check out the building; Jim frowned slightly and shook his head in answer. All the lower floors were ransacked and messy, the place had already been cleaned out; no one would hide in there, especially that high up.

It wasn't long before the sun began to set. They had been here longer than Jim realised, and the sudden dimming in light caught him unaware. As there was no one here to power the electricity anymore, the darkness was hard to outrun. In the day time, the buildings were so tall that they were walking in the shade most of the time, and now the light from the stars couldn't reach the street either.

Jim stopped them when he was finding it hard to see his own feet. He explained that it would be futile to search for people when he could barely find himself. McCrae and Williams agreed and McCrae contacted the Enterprise to tell them they were ready to beam up.

---

"Levicity, according to the scans, is structured very closely to Earth, though it is held back in its technology placing it around the early 21st century in Earth's timeline." Spock recited the words on the PDA in a monotone voice. "Though Earth was greatly more populated, during that time, than Levicity seems to be now."

Kirk backed up what Spock way saying by recalling what he had seen on the planet. All of the bridge crew and McCoy were crowded around the briefing room, just to hear what was going on at the planet they had stopped on.

"The entire place was empty. There was obviously life there before, but now there's nothing. Everything has just been abandoned and left to rot." Jim tried to copy Spock's indifferent tone, but found it difficult as the experience had left him feeling very uneasy about the planet, and he couldn't quite talk about it as if it was nothing. "Whoever was there left in a hurry."

No one around the room spoke. Most of them were trying to picture a world where they were the only living breathing entity. The thought was slightly chilling, and Jim hated that he had had the opportunity to witness it first hand. McCoy was the first person to break the silence. His work exhausted voice was gravely and sounded strangely loud in the small room.

"Well, I guess the upside is that there were less people for you to accidentally piss off. It's quite nice to have a landing party come back without me needing to perform emergency surgery."

Jim grinned at the scowl Bones directed at him. Leave it to Bones to bring his spirits back up with an unheeded insult. He always knew exactly what to say. Jim hadn't realised he was frowning as he thought about his time on the planets surface, but Bones had. Bones' scowl disappeared when Jim grinned at him, like it felt its job was done and it could retreat until it was needed to make Jim stop worrying again.

"Yeah, well it's not over yet. Give it a few more trips. Maybe I can charm the trees into telling me what happened down there?" Jim leaned forward and tilted his head, as though he was offering the idea to Bones.

"Then you'll come back covered in leaves, complaining about bruises and saying the plants turned on you." Jim's charms didn't seem to be softening Bones, who crossed his arms with a sigh.

"I don't know. I doubt the trees will be able to resist me."

"You're not nearly as irresistible as you think you are, Jim." Bones met Jim's head tilt with his own, carrying on the playful banter they had managed to construct out of no where in front of the rest of the crew.

"Is that right, Doctor McCoy?"

Bones' infamous scowl wasn't just used to keep Jim from worrying too much; it was also used to convey irritation, though it was slightly less effective towards Jim in that form. Instead of grinning, Jim smirked at him. Bones opened his mouth to put Jim back in his place as the supposed Captain, not some horny teenager, that was Chekov's role, when someone else spoke.

"Captain, can we please get back to the matter at hand?"

Jim at least had the decency to send Uhura a sheepish smile as an apology. She did nothing but look exasperated at her Captain like she usually did when Jim seemed to forget he was responsible for an entire ship.

"Yes, as I was saying before Doctor McCoy derailed my thoughts," Bones scoffed at this point and the scowl was back at full force. "We will continue to explore the planet. Hopefully we can find out what happened there."

"Captain, if I may, I would like to accompany the landing party tomorrow. I think it would be best to get more accurate readings if we are going to stay."

Jim nodded at Spock.

"That's probably a good idea. There was something that just wasn't right down there. It would put me at ease if we at least knew what it was."

Everyone else took that time to nod in agreement. Jim pushed his chair back and got to his feet, clapping his together when he was finished.

"Well, I guess that's it."

The bridge crew returned back to their duties, but McCoy waited just outside the doors for Jim who was running the plan by Spock again. He stood leaning against the wall, one leg bent, arms crossed. Jim wasn't surprised to see him, so he kept walking. Spock went the other way so it was just him and McCoy in the hallway. At first Jim tried to ignore him, but the silence wasn't right for them.

"It's your fault we got in trouble with Uhura."

Bones chuckled humourlessly, shooting Jim a sceptical look; one which Jim readily mirrored.

"My fault?! I'm the one she likes. It was clearly your fault. You and your incessant need to flirt non-stop. Do you think you'll just drop dead one day because you haven't flirted in over 24 hours?"

"I won't drop dead because you'll save me like you always do." Jim was smug as he said this. It was something that Bones couldn't overlook.

"Yeah, well maybe I'll think twice about it next time. When you come back saying the trees are trying to kill you, I'll just look the other way."

"You wouldn't let me die. Who would you bitch at then?"

They had reached the sickbay by now, and the doors whooshed open as they neared.

"I suppose you have a point."

"Damn right, I do."


	2. Chapter 2

Part 2

It looked exactly as it had yesterday; the only change was that Spock was also standing next to him today. Other than that, everything was as they had left it. The wind had picked up a bit from yesterday and, out in the open as they were, it ripped and pulled at Jim's shirt. Buildings, though empty, continued to stand and the streets, though cluttered, continued to exist.

Ensigns McCrae and Williams also stood by Jim's side. They were only too happy to beam back down, most likely just to get off the ship again, and Jim shook his head at their eagerness. Something unnatural about the planet still plagued him, but he pushed it to the back of his mind. He was the Captain of a starship; it was going to take much more than a relentlessly chilling planet to put him off his duties. As he thought this, his earlier itch returned, reminding him not to get too comfortable here. It was easy to forget the silence and isolation of this planet but the itch was difficult to ignore.

Spock, on the other hand, acted with refined professionalism. Nothing seemed to faze him. He stepped towards the city, not noticing that the grass had thinned and turned into concrete. Jim watched, from the outskirts of the city, as McCrae and Williams followed the science officer and not their Captain.

Even from here, he could see Spock's arm waving ever so slightly while he pointed the tricorder every which way. It was the eyebrow raise that caused Jim to trek over to where he was standing. McCrae had stopped at one of the tall buildings to try the door, whereas Williams had wondered off to the other end of the street, so it left only Jim to hear what Spock was saying.

"According to this, the air here is made mainly of oxygen. Unlike Earth where the air is composed of mostly nitrogen, Levicity seems to be suffering from the lack of people and overabundance of vegetation."

Spock carried on after he spotted the blank look on Jim's face. It wasn't that he didn't understand it, he knew how breathing worked; he was just trying to figure out if this was a good enough reason to order everyone back to the ship and away from this creepy planet. He settled on maybe not, though he kept the thought close by just in case nothing better came up.

"While we are here, we will most likely experience bouts of light-headedness as we are not use to this level of high oxygen in our bodies."

"Right. Breathe less. Got it."

Jim turned away from Spock and spoke into the empty street. He was looking for Williams who had disappeared from the horizon. McCrae was thankfully still nearby, but Jim couldn't see Williams anymore.

"That is not what I meant, Captain."

"I know, Spock." Jim sighed. He faced Spock again, ignoring his raised eyebrow this time. "Can you see Williams anywhere?"

"He has disappeared, Captain"

"Yes, I know he has disappeared. That's why I asked if you could see him."

"If you knew, then why would you bother asking me?"

Jim was about to carry on, when he managed to catch himself in time. Arguing wouldn't help them, they needed to find Williams. He ignored Spock's question, but he didn't seem to mind, as he understood the situation. Jim called McCrae over and asked if he knew which way Williams went. He pointed towards the end of the street, where Jim had last seen him. They were about halfway there when Williams appeared again. He was jogging their way. He noticed them before he got close and turned and gestured back the way he came.

"I think you should see this Captain."

Williams led them to an abandoned house just off the main street they were following yesterday. Most of the windows were smashed and very few of them were boarded up. The front door was ripped off its hinges and lay a few feet down the road, scratches and gouges covering most of the side they could see. Jim didn't know why he hadn't noticed it the day before. Although it wasn't the only house to appear as if the residents had been attacked, it was definitely the worse looking one.

Williams didn't stop outside though; he carried on going, not really giving the mess a second look. Getting inside was relatively easy, as it had no door, but when inside, the upturned furniture made it a bit unstable to manoeuvre around. A, no longer plush looking, sofa was pushed close to the door, meaning you had to climb over it to actually get in the house. Again, Williams didn't bat an eye, he just clambered over and continued into what Jim guessed was a kitchen.

As Jim took his turn over the sofa, his eyes were drawn to the walls. There had obviously been a family living here as the walls were decorated in photos. Over time dust had settled and dimmed the frames and faces, but the amount of them proved that it was a loving family. He had to forcefully tear his eyes away in the end, as it reminded him of all the things that were wrong with this planet.

It turned out Jim had been right about it being a kitchen. Though, what he had expected to see was counters, cupboards and maybe a table and some chairs, but what he actually saw was something of a crime scene.

There were indeed all of the things most kitchens had in them, but also some things that you wouldn't normally see. Such as the large darkened sticky puddle underneath the shattered window. Shards of glass had fallen into the puddle and had been stained a dark red, almost black colour.

A bundle of quilts had also been stashed in the corner of the room; one was laid out like it was a bed for a dog, and still had imprints in it as though something had only just left it. The ends, of the one laid out, disappeared into the dark tiled floor, almost making it invisible. It was coated in whatever was pooling on the kitchen floor. The copper coloured material reminded Jim of his childhood. He remembered the time one of their work dogs had gotten pregnant and given birth in their living room. His mom hadn't let him watch as he was around six at the time, but he remembered the aftermath. His eyes had spotted the bloodied bed she had laid on. Though he quickly spotted the puppies shortly after, and to a six year old nothing else mattered. Something told him that this wasn't a dog though, there was too much blood.

Jim stepped further into the kitchen. On closer inspection, he realised he could make out handprints in the puddle. They moved outwards towards the window, smearing a trail of fingers as it went. There were a few splatters dotting the walls near the puddle as well, and a clear handprint on the left side on the window where the glass had been crushed and removed, mostly likely, by the person's palm.

The air in the kitchen didn't seem like it was over oxygenated. It was stuffy and bitter, Jim was finding it hard to get a satisfying lungful. He breathed deeply turning away from the kitchen, only to end up facing the living room again. The photos were the first thing he saw. A chill ran up his spine and caused him to shiver. The deep breathing had also left him feeling a bit dizzy.

Jim stumbled out of the house, struggling with the sofa at first, but eventually managing to land unsteadily on his feet outside in the streets. The entire time he tried to keep from looking at the photos or back at the kitchen. Spock quickly appeared at his elbow, a Vulcan version of concern of his face.

"Are you okay Captain?"

Jim was leaning forward with his hands on his thighs, attempting to keep his breaths slow and shallow.

"I'm fine. Just a bit light-headed." He stood up straighter, waving his hand weakly in Spock's direction, meaning to imply he didn't need to worry, though the gesture itself seemed to contradict the meaning. "I should work on that 'no breathing' thing." He added as an afterthought, and chuckled.

"I'm afraid I don't see the humour, Captain. If you stopped breathing you would die."

McCrae and Williams joined them at this point, giving both Jim and Spock a puzzled look.

"Remind me never to joke around you, Spock."

---

After the house, they didn't bother to explore any of the side streets leading to the more rural areas of the city. They instead kept to the main street. Before they reached the paper covered area, they turned right at one of the many empty intersections, choosing a different path than the one they travelled last time. The scenery wasn't much different, they still passed empty office buildings, fuel dry cars and scattered belongings.

Every time they happened on a coat or jacket, McCrae would stop and fish in the pockets, hoping to find anything that would help shed some light on what was happening. Every time, his search left him holding nothing but useless scraps of paper, old earth-like currency and pocket lint. Nothing that was any help.

They walked for another hour; slowly the buildings began getting less dense and grass had surfaced again in forms of parks and gardens. The landing party eventually reached a large area where all the main streets seemed to converge and a public park was placed in the middle. The grass was over grown and the branches of the trees were dipping over railings and starting to shade the roads. With no one around to tame them, they were slowly taking over the grey parts of the city.

They followed the park until it led them to the street opposite the way they had come in. Across the road was a building so big and white that Jim was surprised they hadn't noticed it before. The large sign outside read 'Levicity Hospital' in bold red lettering, and underneath that was a giant red cross, just in case you hadn't notice the words. Unlike the rest of the drab, boring looking city, the hospital was very bright and new. Although, it still looked a little run down in places, it was obviously the building that had survived the best.

Jim set off towards the emergency room entrance. Most of the glass doors were broken anyway, so it wouldn't be a challenge to get inside. Spock, McCrae and Williams followed wordlessly, the glass crunching under their boots. When inside, Jim and Spock went one way, keeping nearer the exits, while McCrae and Williams went the other way, following the hallways deeper into the hospital. Jim ordered then to stay together and to contact him if they found anything.

The emergency room, Jim and Spock was looking around, was completely empty. Everything was relatively undisturbed, the beds were left made and the floors were clean and white. There was a station near the door which was clear of any clutter and only held a very old computer that wouldn't work without electricity. Strangely, a strong antiseptic smell still hung about in the room, despite it being deserted for an indefinite amount of time. It was familiar. It felt safe. Jim allowed himself to relax for the first time since he beamed down onto the planet.

Before he really realised what he was doing, Jim was reaching for the communicator on his belt. He stopped in front of a tray on a cart. With one hand he rolled an old equivalent of a hypospray along his fingers, while his other hand flipped open the communicator.

"Kirk to sickbay."

If Spock was confused, he didn't show it. Jim could see him out of the corner of his eye as he faced the cart; he was standing with his hands clasped behind his back and a passive look on his face. He may have been trying to look uninterested, but Jim was certain he was watching him and listening to what he was saying.

---

McCoy was busy pulling the see-through, skin tight gloves off of his hands when the intercom on the wall began beeping. One of them was stuck on his fingertips and wouldn't come off no matter how much he tugged, so he was struggling to press the button in time to speak.

Nurse Chapel shuffled her feet in the background, wondering whether she should help or not. McCoy sent her a smile and a shake of his head, telling her he was fine. She continued to look unconvinced when McCoy tried to hold the button down with his elbow, while still trying to free his hand.

"This is McCoy."

McCoy was sure his elbow had slipped at least once while he had answered, and he hoped Jim had still been able to understand him.

"Are you okay Bones? You sound a bit weird. You're not busy are you?"

Over the intercom, McCoy could hear Jim moving about. He heard something clatter like he had just placed something metal onto a counter.

"I'm fine, and no I'm not busy - come on you little fucker. Let go."

McCoy was only really half paying attention to the conversation, at the moment. He was a little distracted by the glove to care. He hadn't realised that Jim could hear him talking to them, while he held the button down with his elbow at an awkward angle.

"Excuse me?"

He could hear the laughter behind Jim's voice, and it annoyed him. His brow furrowed in frustration, and he tried once again to pull his hand free from the glove's grasp. It almost worked. One of the fingers stretched taught and snapped away from his skin causing him to yelp slightly. It wasn't just Jim who laughed out loud at him; McCoy turned his head to see Chapel giggling into the back of her hand. McCoy would never admit it, but he actually growled at her.

"Don't you have work to be doing?"

Chapel just smiled and disappeared into another part of the sickbay. She even had the fore-thought not to mention that he had just pointed out that they were not busy, and there wasn't actually anything that needed to be done. She instead left silently, having learnt early on not to be offended by McCoy harsh sounding tones.

"What's going on Bones? Am I interrupting something? Was that Nurse Chapel I heard giggling in the background?"

Jim's voice took on a teasing tone that didn't help McCoy's frustration with him. Now that the glove was partially off, the rest was relatively easy to remove. It peeled away without much force and McCoy tossed it towards the nearest medical bin, all the while fighting the complaints of 'why couldn't it have just done that earlier?'

"Is that all you think about?"

"Well, it's kind of hard not to when it's just being thrusted at me all the while."

"Ok. I am definitely not thrusting anything at you. Let's make that clear right now."

"Oh Bones, you tease."

The tease in question rubbed the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger, trying desperately to quell the headache that was beginning to form. It didn't seem to be helping though, so he tried a different tactic. Changing the subject.

"Was there a reason why you contacted sickbay? Or did you just feel that, all too familiar, urge creeping up telling you it was time to annoy me?"

"No, there was nothing in particular. I just saw something that reminded me of you and thought I should give you a call. I mean, how long has it been? Five, six hours now?"

"Damn it, Jim. I have more important things to be doing that don't involve us prattling on like two teenage girls."

A silence lulled between them. McCoy still held the intercom button down, though now with his hand and not his elbow. For a moment he thought that maybe Jim had gone. Like he had finally taken something he had said seriously. Though, he swiftly branded himself an idiot when Jim began talking again, completely ignoring McCoy outburst. Seriously, what was he thinking?

"You'd like it down here Bones. You should see this hospital. It's like your dream come true." McCoy heard the sounds of draws being opened and rummaged through in the background of Jim's slightly wistful words. "It would just be you and the entire hospital to run. There would be no ensigns tripping over their own tongues and feet."

"It sounds like a veritable paradise. Though, I don't think it would right without you constantly walking through the doors, complaining about another broken nose." McCoy sighed, bringing his head up from his hand. "By the way, how did it go with the trees? I was expecting you back five minutes after you left."

Jim's voice picked up again, returning to its usual jest. Despite the inane subject, Jim always managed to speak about with such passion that subject often didn't matter.

"You should have seen it. They were like putty in my hands."

Both of them laughed at the way their conversation had derailed slightly. McCoy's hand was starting to ache a bit from holding the button down; these things weren't really designed for long conversations.

"I take it things are pretty slow down there."

Jim paused for a moment like he was carefully choosing how best to word it. This wasn't something Jim normally did, so McCoy took that as a sign as to how bad the problem was.

"Yeah, things are pretty slow, I guess." Jim never was overly eloquent though. "I don't know what it is about this place, but…"

McCoy waited at least ten seconds for Jim to finish his sentence, believing he was just pausing for the effect. It wasn't until then that he realised that something had interrupted him.

"Jim? What going on?"

Instead of hearing Jim answering, McCoy was met with a scream.

It wasn't particularly loud, so it couldn't have come from Jim himself, but it was a very guttural noise. Whoever was making it was in serious pain. McCoy tried getting Jim's attention to find out what was happening, but he seemed to be distracted and reluctant to respond. Standing in the sickbay on the Enterprise, McCoy could hear the pounding footstep made by someone close to the communicator on Jim's end. The footsteps stayed constant, but the screaming was slowly getting louder and more frantic. It was a man's voice, so McCoy gathered that it was one of the landing party.

There was a loud bang, like a door slamming open so fast that it hit the wall and bounced. Many voices then spoke over the other. Some shouting; some whispering; some staying completely unchanged. The screaming was the loudest of them all. Earlier it had sounded far away and unreal. It was dry and raspy. Hoarse and painful, ripping its way out of the man's throat. Now, it was closer, louder and harder to doubt. It sounded wet, as if the person was trying to gargle at the same time. Screams bubbled and hiccupped out of the man's throat now.

He was so caught up in the screaming, that it took a while for McCoy to notice Jim was talking. Though, in reality, it was more than talking, it was shouting. McCoy actually flinched on the spot when the harsh noise of Jim's voice caught him off guard.

"Bones get down here now! Something attacked Williams. It looks like it tried to rip his throat out. He's bleeding too much!"

McCoy was already half way out of the door, before Jim had finished.


	3. Chapter 3

Part 3

Jim was up to his elbows in someone else's blood. The wound in Williams' throat pulsed and oozed under his hands. He tried frantically to smother it, putting as much pressure on it as he could without effectively suffocating him. Nevertheless, his ministrations didn't seem to be helping and blood kept dripping through his fingers onto the, once clean, floor.

Williams was trying to talk, but the liquid pouring down his throat made it near impossible. Most of it was unintelligible, and only seemed to result in coughing fits. Speckles of the blood caught in his throat, spraying Jim in the face as he leaned over him. He would have brushed it away but his hands were already covered.

Jim allowed himself to look up and away, spotting McCrae near a door to his right. His hands were tight around the bar that acted as a door handle, and he was holding it closed with so much effort that his knuckles were white. When Jim and Spock had burst through the door, Williams was already bleeding out on the floor, so they hadn't seen the thing that did this to him. He didn't bother to look for McCrae because his attention had been grabbed by Williams.

Something crashed into the other side of the door McCrae was trying desperately to keep shut. The cracking noise of the wood bending under the weight of a body being thrown at it made Jim jump. His hands slipped on the blood and squeaked when they slipped across the floor. The attacker in the room growled and snarled while Jim hurriedly placed his hands back where they were. From the sounds of it, the attacker appeared to be some kind of animal, most likely wild and territorial from being in isolation for so long. However, judging by the way the door was creaking; it would have to have been quite a large animal.

Spock dropped to his knees at this point, startling Jim back to the moment. He ripped the already soaked arm of Williams' shirt clean off and folded it a few times. He then lifted Jim's hand, placing the rags on the wound before pushing Jim's hand back on top of it. Jim understood right away and continued to push down on the wound.

Another loud band echoed in the room, and Jim's head shot up to face McCrae, fearing the attacker had somehow gotten out. He sighed in relief when he saw McCoy and not some ferocious beast.

McCoy had been running as he was panting and gasping when he exploded through the ER doors. The bag on his hip jostled as he moved, it must have hurt when it swung and hit him in the leg because it was weighted down by several different medical instruments, but he made no face saying that it did. McCoy moved so fast that when he dropped next to Spock, pushing him slightly to move out of the way, he skidded in Williams' blood. He threw out a hand to keep his balance, but his hand also landed in the pool that was forming. Jim would have laughed at McCoy lack of grace if it had been a different situation, but today he just ignored it.

McCoy batted Jim's hand out of the way, grimacing when he realised the state Williams was in. The bleeding should have slowed at bit considering how much he had already lost, but it continued to gush.

Jim sat back on his haunches, allowing himself a chance to breath. He held his hands out in front of him, uncertainly. He was actually sitting in blood, but he still didn't want to put his hands anywhere that would smear them more. He glanced at the communicator he had thrown down after contacting McCoy; thankfully it was rested just out of the way of all the commotion. McCoy leaned forward over Williams' deteriorating body, noticing Jim's unsure gaze. He grabbed Jim's bloodied hands in his own and directed them back Williams' neck. He then turned to the bag on his hip, pawing through it until he found what he wanted.

With one hand he lifted Jim's hand out of the way again, while the other waved an instrument over the wound. Jim frowned when McCoy grumbled in frustration under his breath, and hit the instrument into the palm of his hand a few times.

"It's not working. God damn it, of all the times."

McCoy sort of trailed off, as he pulled another instrument out of his bag. Again, this one also hovered uselessly over Williams' neck. He dropped it back into the bag, wiped his hands down his legs, and sat back mimicking Jim's position. His hands, now wiped clean of most of the blood, reached up to his forehead, massaging it to try and clear the headache so he could think properly.

The attacker moved for the first time since McCoy had arrived. It threw its body at the door while McCrae was distracted and it vibrated in its frame. McCoy shot a wide eyed look towards it, and when he turned back to Jim, tried to school it back into a calm thinking face. Spock took this time to move away from McCoy's shoulder and try to help McCrae with the door.

"We're going to have to do this the hard way." Jim nodded at McCoy, not quite understanding what he meant, but willing to help nonetheless. "His heart is beating too fast and it's pumping too much blood out of the wound. We need to slow it down." Again, Jim nodded along, understanding the logic McCoy was going through, but being unable to help as he didn't know how to go about it. "See if you can find anything labelled 'Amiodarone' in the drawers over there."

Jim repeated the word over and over as he scrambled to his feet, stumbling over syllables and his own feet. He ripped open the drawers he had haphazardly sorted through earlier, reading each label he came across. There were many things that were similar to what he was looking for but not what he wanted. He finally found it in the back of the third drawer.

Clumsily, Jim passed it over to McCoy, who had taken over Jim's job of holding the rag to Williams' neck. He also had his fingers pressed to the other side of his throat, checking his racing pulse.

McCoy didn't bother to worry about how long the medicine must have been here. Nor did he worry about how un-sterilised the 21st century equivalent of a hypospray must have been when Jim grabbed it off a tray. He tried to forget all of this as he grabbed Williams' sleeveless arm. He could deal with the unavoidable infections when he was back on the Enterprise. It would be unwise to move him at the moment.

They all waited with baited breath. McCoy kept his fingers pressed onto the junction between Williams' neck and jaw. Jim watched McCoy's face. Spock and McCrae held the door shut, though the attacker had stilled momentarily it seemed.

"It's not working. It's not slowing." McCoy sighed.

It was as if the attacker had heard McCoy because, as soon as McCoy spoke, it sprung back into life. Slamming and snarling into the door. There was a moment when the door pulled open a fraction, before Spock and McCrae could pull it back. It wasn't enough to see the attacker inside, but was enough to worry Jim, who rushed to the door to help pull it to. With all three of them it was easier to overpower it and the door crashed shut. Though, it didn't stop it from scratching and screeching at them.

Movement caught Jim's eye, and he saw McCoy getting to his feet when he twirled around, still a bit frantic from the adrenaline.

"He's dead, Jim."

Jim began to think maybe McCoy had some sort of special connection with the attacker, because his words kept having an effect on it. McCoy announced Ensign Williams was dead, and the attacker stopped. All of the fight disappeared from the door and it looked as if the attacker had given up. Wearily, Jim backed away from the door and approached Williams' body, stopping when he stood next to McCoy. He would have put a hand on his shoulder, but he didn't think he would appreciate the bloody handprint, so he just stood silently.

"What is that thing?"

McCoy turned to face Jim, a dry trail of Williams' blood decorated his forehead, but he didn't move to scrape it away. Jim remembered that he probably looked pretty similar.

"I don't know. I thought it was a dog or something, but it's bigger than that."

Jim tried to clean his face using his shoulder, though the wet feeling was higher than his shoulder could reach. Without thinking, McCoy reached over with his slightly less bloodied hands to help him. Neither of them mentioned how intimate the gesture must have looked.

"Maybe it's a survivor. Being alone for this long might have taken a toll on its mind."

"Could be." Pulling away from McCoy, Jim turned his attention to the door Spock and McCrae and were still crowding. "There's only one way to find out." He stepped forward.

A hand grasped his elbow; Jim felt the material squelch.

"You don't seriously think you are going in there?" McCoy's voice was harsh and low, a tone he usually reserved for when Jim was about to do something stupid, which was more often than not.

"I have to. Like you said, it could be a survivor." The hand on his elbow tightened.

"Jim, it just ripped Williams' throat out. What makes you think it won't do the same to you?"

"Don't worry. I'll be careful."

A breath tickled Jim's ear when McCoy sighed in defeat. He knew nothing was going to change his mind, so why bother fight it. He eventually let go of Jim's arm, but not before squeezing it as a warning to be careful.

Jim approached the door, ordering Spock and McCrae out of the way. McCrae moved quickly, obviously thankful to finally be able to let go. Spock, however, was more reluctant. He began to question Jim, but Jim just waved off his concerns like he had with McCoy. After that, he had no reason to get in the way, so Spock stood to the side, still staying close in case things went wrong.

Even though there was nothing holding it closed anymore, the door remained unmoving. Like whatever was inside had lost interest. Jim doubted that the attacker would stay that way for long. He carefully stepped forward with his fingers brushing the surface. He didn't glance back at the faces watching him, fearing he would change his mind. The door pushed open smoothly despite how much it had been battered in the last couple of minutes. It opened fully so the attacker wasn't waiting right in front of it either.

Standing on the other side of a, rather large, supply closet was a man. His back was facing Jim so he couldn't see his face, but it was enough to tell Jim the extent of what was wrong with this planet. In reality, the man shouldn't have been able to stand there. The damage done to his back should have rendered him, if not dead, then at least unconscious. At a certain angle, Jim was convinced that he would have been able to see right through the man's stomach, but he didn't want to move to find out.

A poor excuse for a shirt hung loosely on the man's shoulders. More than half of it was missing, and Jim couldn't be sure what colour it was before, but now it was a strange mix between red and brown. The tattered threads at the ripped ends disappeared into the hole in the man's stomach, disguising themselves as odd bits of skin and muscle. By the looks of it, the man was falling apart. Jim found it hard to believe that this was the thing that nearly tore down the door. It looked barely strong enough to hold its own weight let alone overpower two men and a Vulcan.

Jim froze when the man started to move. From the other side of the closet, he could see the muscles quivering under his skin, the effort just to turn around being too much. The man stumbled at one point on his shaky legs, but still managed to stay up right, in order to fully face Jim.

One side of his face had started to rot. There were patches where it was so worn away that Jim could make out the bones underneath. Half of the man's mouth was gone, the lips ended so soon that the teeth poked out. The man's eyes were dead, dull and incredibly bloodshot. They didn't seem to be looking at anything even though they were clearly being trained on Jim. Dark stains, which Jim could only guess was Williams' blood, covered the lower part of the man's face. Lacking lips meant that he had dribbled it all over the front of his shirt as well.

The smell was definitely the worse part. It was like rotting meat. It choked you and made you eyes water a little bit. Under all that there was also the undeniable stench of blood. The strong copper smell made Jim's teeth hurt when he breathed in through his mouth instead of his nose.

Jim took a tentative step into the closet, not risking it by going to far. It was all the man needed though, as he lunged when Jim's foot hit the floor. Jim saw the remainder of the man's lips twist into a snarl that was moving swiftly closer. He was about to cartwheel back when he felt a hand grasp at the collar of his shirt, catching a few stray hairs on the back of his neck in the process. The hand then whipped back, pulling him with it. Jim flailed a bit but kept on his feet as he was physically dragged backwards out of the small room. The world blurred for a second, though Jim was still able to make out McCoy dashing forward to slam the door shut. He had to use his own body mass to keep the door from bouncing back open again.

Spock's hand loosened after he was sure Jim had regained sure footing. Leaving Jim where he was, he then rushed forward to help McCoy, who was starting to struggle. McCrae also appeared at their sides with a broom suddenly in his hands. Between the three of them, they managed to hold the door shut while they threaded the broom through the handle. Very slowly, in case it didn't work, they stepped back, hands out ready to grab the handle. The man fought but the broom seemed to be holding firm, and they were able to retreat back far enough so that McCoy could latch a hand onto Jim's shoulder.

Jim jerked back into motion at the touch, suddenly remembering that he was in fact the Captain.

"We have to get off this planet."

"That is indeed a logical choice, Captain."

"Jim, what about Williams?"

"We take him back to the Enterprise. I'm not leaving him down here. Not with that thing trying to break out of the next room."

Spock went to go pick up the Ensign's body, not seeming to care that he got coated in blood while doing it. McCoy, meanwhile, explained that they would have to leave the hospital in order for Scotty to be able to beam them up. Something about strange electrical fields messing with the transporter. He then complained about how he had to run about most of the hospital before he found them. Jim knew he was just trying to lighten the mood, but at the moment it just fell flat.

---

Scotty hung his head at the scene that materialised on the transporter pads.

Everyone had blood splattered somewhere on their body and each person stood looking very grim. Spock was carrying a lifeless body in his arms, McCrae looked slightly traumatised and Jim was standing so close to McCoy that he was basically leaning on him.

When they left the transporter room and walked down the hallway to the sickbay, everyone they passed stopped to watch. They didn't stare like they were fishing for gossip, they stood straight-backed and silently showing respect for them fallen family member.


	4. Chapter 4

Part 4

After a much needed shower Jim found himself following the familiar path to the sickbay. The doors swished open as he neared, and the first thing he spotted was McCoy. Still wearing the same blood drenched clothes as he was earlier, he was leaning over Williams' body. At least he had washed his hands and face before getting straight to work. There was an expression of pure concentration on his face while he worked, his brow was furrowed and his lips formed a thin line. Jim was surprised that his entrance hadn't distracted him.

As he drew closer, he realised why McCoy was so oblivious to him. Evidently, the skin regenerators didn't work on dead people, and it wasn't like they could sent Williams' body back to his family while he had a gaping wound in the side of his throat. To combat this, McCoy had painstakingly hand stitched the entire wound back together. It wasn't pretty, the black thread stood out horribly against the pale skin, and there were places where the stitches were not completely even. Jim chalked that up to the fact that it was very rare that stitches were needed anymore, and the practise was virtually non-existent now. Doctors weren't trained to do it in med school today, and the only reason McCoy knew vaguely what to do was because he had researched it beforehand.

McCoy placed the small metal scissors and curved needle back onto the sterilised tray at his side. It wasn't as though he had to worry about infections at the moment, but he still made sure that everything was perfectly clean, it was just a matter of habit. He glanced up, noticing Jim's presence for the first time.

"It could be neater, but I think it's still pretty good for a first try."

He stood back and admired his work with his hands on his hips. Jim just nodded his head in agreement, not once taking his eyes off the body. McCoy followed his gaze and a frown pulled at the edge of his mouth.

"I'm going to need help moving him to the morgue."

Jim's head slowly drifted up to meet McCoy's eyes, a thoroughly disgruntled look on his face. It was normal to not like a morgue. You'd have to be psychologically impaired to enjoy being in a room full of dead bodies, but Jim really hated the morgue. It had always unsettled him that people had had the forethought to build a room to house the mistakes that he would undoubtedly make as a Captain.

Shaking his head to rid himself of his thoughts, Jim stepped closer to the bed. McCoy had wheeled a stretcher over to them, passing Chapel on the way. She made a move to help, but McCoy smiled saying 'It was okay, they had it.' Rigor mortis had already begun to set in and lifting the body slightly and moving it to the side was relatively easy. After that, Jim helped McCoy push the dead weight towards the room at the very back of the sickbay.

McCoy needed Jim's assistance again, when he had to pull Williams' body onto the slab that would roll into the cubicle. It creaked as it moved and the door hissed when McCoy pushed it shut. When he turned back to Jim, he was staring at a space on the wall just over McCoy's shoulder. McCoy purposely brought himself into Jim's eye line, standing as close as he could while still pertaining to the friend boundaries.

"It wasn't your fault, Jim." His eyes focused on McCoy instead of the wall. "It wasn't my fault either. Sometimes these things just happen. We can't change that."

"I know that. It's just…it never gets any easier."

McCoy's jaw tightened when he saw Jim glance at the cubicle Williams was now lying in. He grabbed Jim's chin, forcing him back to their conversation, while also crossing a line in the process.

"Well, think of that as a good thing. You're not one of those emotionless Captains who couldn't give a damn about his crew. You care. You care so much that every little thing that affects them also affects you. It makes you a good Captain, an exceptional Captain." McCoy allowed himself to smirk, hoping the compliment would assure Jim. "You just need to learn that even the best Captain can't beat death."

They stared at each other for a moment, letting McCoy's words sink in. The spell was broken when McCoy dropped his hand back to his side and stepped back, only just then realising how close he had been standing.

Jim grinned, completely forgetting about his insecurities. McCoy scowled at his sudden change in persona, so Jim toned his grin into an endearing smile instead.

"You're a good doctor, Bones. Even if you can't sew worth a damn."

Chapel looked on with a quizzical expression when Jim and McCoy came out of the morgue smiling and laughing. McCoy noticed and shrugged in answer. She then watched as he patted Jim on the back, saying something as he leaned in. Jim grinned and nodded, following McCoy into his office. Chapel hadn't been able to hear what McCoy had said, and a part of her didn't want to know. The less she knew about what went on his office the better, she thought. Especially, if it was anything like the rumours that were making their rounds across the Enterprise.

Contrary to popular belief, when McCoy and Jim shut themselves in the CMO's office it was usually just to have a drink in private. Jim made himself comfy in the chair facing McCoy's desk, putting his legs up and slinking down until his chin hit his chest. McCoy busied himself by fetching glasses and a bottle of brandy before making himself just as comfy in a chair opposite Jim's. He poured them both a healthy amount, slid one over to the other side of the desk and relaxed back.

"Here's to Williams. Maybe now he can finally get around to learning the piano like he wanted."

McCoy had already brought the glass to his lips, but pulled it back to raise it in the air. He then swigged it back with a practised ease. Jim follow suit, swallowing as best be could with his head and body at such awkward angles.

Another two glassfuls were poured while Jim tried to sort out the words he was going to say in head.

"Spock caught up with me after we left you in the sickbay earlier. He told me about the readings he had got on the planet. Apparently, with the air being as highly oxygenated as it is, it would be 'highly unwise' to use our phasers. He said it we had, there would have been a certainty that none of us would have returned to the Enterprise." McCoy's eyebrow shot up in surprise. "According to the data, the air is so volatile that even the slightest spark could set off a chain reaction."

"Wow, leave it to him to put 'phasers equal a big fucking no-no' in so many words."

Jim chucked weakly at McCoy's thoughtful tone. He was use to the rivalry between his CMO and SO. It was like a game now, nothing was said with complete honesty and they both knew that. He liked that he was the only one that heard both sides of it. There were times where their creativity was really put to the test.

"I guess I'm just going to have to be as careful as possible when I go back."

"What do you mean 'when you go back?"

Jim let out a half confused, half genuinely amused laugh.

"What else could that possibly mean?"

Setting his empty glass back down, McCoy sat up. His expression had changed from thoughtful to angry in a blink of an eye.

"You're not going back there, Jim. Especially now that you know you can't use weapons."

"I have to. What if there are survivors? We were only down there for a few hours; imagine what it must be like to live there. Constantly being in fear of those…things."

"The planet has been deserted for over a year. If the food shortage hasn't got them then I'm sure those things did."

"We can't know that for sure."

McCoy pushed himself to his feet, tracing a well worn path around his office. His hands kept shifting from his hips to the space surrounding him, while he attempted to form a sentence in reply. Jim watched him as he moved, recognising the telltale signs of worry. McCoy stopped pacing when he was in front of Jim's chair, his hands held firmly on his hips because he had come to a decision.

"If you go then I'm coming with you."

Jim was up on his feet in a second, startling McCoy so that he stumbled back a few steps.

"No. You need to be ready up here for any survivors that we might find. With newer technology not working on the planet, you need to stay in the sickbay."

It didn't take long for McCoy to get over the surprise of Jim invading his personal space. He was mirroring Jim straight away.

"We? I thought we were just talking about you. Who else are you going to drag into this suicide attempt?"

"I haven't asked, but I can guarantee Spock isn't going to let me go down there alone."

"And you're going to let him?! So I was just, what, joking when I said I was going with you?" McCoy's hands were picking up speed as they gestured along with his tirade. "You know what? I take it back. You're not a good Captain, you're a selfish Captain."

Something hit a chord with Jim and McCoy was pretty sure he could pinpoint what part did it. Jim's mouth snapped shut with an audible crack and he stared steely eyed at McCoy. Despite the emotion behind the look, McCoy didn't falter either. The glass in Jim's hand was in danger of shattering with the strength that he was squeezing it. Realising this, he slammed it down on McCoy's desk and sauntered towards the door. He turned back once he reached it, just to seek out McCoy's eyes one last time.

"Good night, Doctor McCoy. Get properly cleaned up and rested. You need to be in better condition for tomorrow." He then left wishing, just this once, that he had a door to slam for dramatic effect.

---

The conversation with Spock went just as Jim had envisioned it. He tried all of the arguments he could think of, but Spock continued to stick by his convictions. Jim was slightly relieved that Spock was just as stubborn as he was, but he also regretted it. McCoy's words replayed over and over in his head, and he couldn't help but see the truth in them.

Jim stood waiting on the transporter pad, with Spock standing next to him. He felt a little off centre with only a communicator strapped to his belt, the other side being left empty of a weapon. When he had asked Spock if he should bother bringing the phaser anyway, maybe it could just be used as a threat, he had said that the temptation to use it would be too great for the Captain so he should leave it behind. Jim should have been offended but he reluctantly agreed. Revenge did funny things to a man.

The words 'energize' were on the tip of Jim's tongue when the door to the transporter room suddenly opened. McCoy paused in the doorway, his eyes locking with Jim's. Without words, Jim knew what McCoy was doing here. He wouldn't say 'be careful' but it was what he really meant. It was as close to an apology as he was going to get as well. His gaze was so intense that Jim's stomach fluttered at the attention.

"You're an idiot. And you're not much better Spock."

Jim didn't smile as he wasn't sure if everything was back to the way it was before. He didn't want to risk Bones thinking he wasn't taking this seriously, because he was. He understood the danger, but he also understood what was at stake. He wouldn't be able to call himself any degree of Captain if he just left people to die.

"Don't worry Bones, we'll be careful. You just be ready for us and anyone we might bring back."

The slight inclination of McCoy's head was all Jim saw as the Enterprise disappeared from his view and was replaced by tall buildings that he had no desire to look at.

McCoy stuck around for a few minutes after they left. Not saying anything, just staring intently at the pads. Scotty fidgeted in his seat, wondering whether he should say something or not. He was glad he didn't when McCoy seemed to snap out of it and turned on his heels, leaving presumably for the sickbay.

---

Once Jim's head had cleared from the transportation, his mind filled with thoughts of the hospital, and not how intently Bones had stared at him. They had beamed down outside it, pretty much exactly where they had been standing the day before. The absence of the body in Spock's arms, this time, was a welcomed change though. If he could have, he would have carried on walking, passing the hospital by without a second glance, but he couldn't. Being unarmed on an unexplored planet warranted supplies.

Reluctantly, Jim started towards the front doors. Spock didn't say a word when he saw the determined look burning holes in the entrance doors. Nor did he say anything when Jim punched it open with more force than was strictly necessary. The words probably would have gotten lost in the noise anyway, as the crash reverberated countless times around the empty hospital.

The plain white walls were vaguely familiar, but the corridors twisted and turned endlessly. It would be ridiculously easy to get lost in here, so Jim made a note to check any passing sign that could be used to orientate his way. He hadn't been planning to return to the ER but his legs obviously had other ideas. He spotted the doors before he reached them but he followed the path regardless.

As he got closer, he noticed the tracks on the floor. Yesterday was a bit of a blur when he thought about it, so he couldn't say for certain whether or not they were new. The tracks were made of streaked blood, and the prints were an indistinguishable mess. They could have been leading either way. Jim guessed they were leading away.

His estimations were proved corrected when he pushed open the doors to the ER. The broom that had been holding the closet shut was broken in two on the floor. The break was rough and splintered like it had been bent with extreme force, that didn't surprise Jim. The pool of Williams' blood had been traipsed through and the tracks originated there. Something had shuffled their feet through it and escaped out of the doors in to the heart of the hospital. Jim and Spock shared a grim expression.

They agreed that they should spend as little time as possible in the hospital. The confusing hallways and unknown territory would do them no favours, especially now that the thing was loose. Jim crossed the room, carefully avoiding the puddle and any of the tracks, to get to the drawers on the other side. He pocketed the bandages he remembered finding yesterday as well as a small first aid kit, making sure to empty it of any of the superfluous items that would only weight him down. He nodded to Spock signalling that they should make a move to leave.

Despite watching for signs that would lead the way, Jim still found himself getting a bit confused by the lefts and rights. He passed a room which he was certain he had passed before, though he couldn't remember if it had been today or yesterday that he had done. He led them past the same bulletin board twice before Spock spoke up claiming that he didn't know why they kept making right turns when the way out was simply left. Jim threw his hands in the air in exasperation, gesturing for Spock to lead the way instead. It took exactly two minutes and thirteen seconds for Spock to locate the exit, compared to Jim's six minutes and forty-seven seconds of getting them irrevocably lost.

Sunlight glared through the doors leading to the outside, it blinded Jim for a moment so he brought his hand up to shield his eyes. He was turning his head away when he noticed the other door just next to the hallway to the outside. The small sign on the surface read 'Stairwell to roof.'

"Wait a minute Spock."

Jim patted Spock's arm then took off towards the stairwell. Spock did wait a few seconds, mostly just to process what Jim had said, before going after him. Jim's footfalls echoed sharply, so Spock figured he was only one or two sets of stairs behind.

The door to the roof had already been thrown open when Spock reached it. He could see Jim standing right at the edge, hands on the rails and his torso leaning dangerously far forward. Being high up and unsheltered meant that the winds had picked up; it bit at his face and ripped at his clothes, and Spock could see it doing the same to Jim. Spock couldn't understand how Jim deemed it safe enough to dangle himself off the edge. He approached cautiously, not wanting to startle Jim, as he had been told to wait. Though, in Spock's defence, the Captain hadn't actually specified where he had to wait.

"Do you think there are more of those things down there?"

It wasn't quite shouting, but it was definitely close. The wind drowned out most of the words but Spock got the gist of it.

"Just because we hadn't seen them doesn't mean they are not there."

"Like the survivors."

The hospital wasn't the tallest building in the area but it was high enough to see the surrounding roads and intersections. From the rooftop, they could see the tops of the trees in the park; where the roads ended at the horizon and what way they should go if they wanted to avoid the countryside areas.

Spock was starting to get uncomfortable with the drop in temperature, so was about to ask Jim if he thought they should move on when Jim suddenly slammed his hand down on the rails. His feet scrambled on to the lowest rungs of the railings and he pulled himself up so that he was leaning so far off the edge that Spock acted on reflexes and fisted his hand into the back of Jim's shirt. Spock tensed his arm, waiting for the Captain's weight to pull him off his balance, but it never happened. Jim wasn't toppling over the edge; he was peering at the street below. Spock still wasn't completely convinced Jim was safe, so he kept his hand where it was, folded tightly at the bottom of the shirt. Jim didn't seem to notice or care because his attention was diverted by something else entirely.

"Do you see that?!"

Still keeping his arm at a distance from himself, Spock carefully poked his head over the rail to see what had captivated Jim. In the middle of the road, just outside the hospital, were two figures. One Spock vividly remembered, while the other was new. Spock was sure that he would never forget the image of the man in the supply closet. The attacker must have lost more of his shirt in his struggle to escape the supply closet because he was now missing a sleeve as well. It was difficult to make out the details from this height, but Spock knew that the bottom of the man's feet would also be stained with blood. The figure standing opposite was new to Spock so he wasn't sure if his observations were right. It was wearing a bright red t-shirt and there appeared to be a large plank of wood in its hand.

"This isn't some sort of mirage, right?"

Spock was tempted to explain that mirages only occurred in instances where the temperatures were much higher. A scenario which Spock's body was now craving as the fingers on the hand not clenched in Jim's shirt were beginning to go numb. He stifled the urge to recite his thoughts and instead shook his head.

Jim tore himself away from the railings, jumping down on the surface of the roof. The sudden difference in height caused Spock's stilled hand to lift Jim's shirt up, revealing the skin on his back. Before Spock could explain he was only trying to help, Jim was gone. Jim had fewer boundaries when it came to physical contact; he probably thought nothing of Spock's hand on him. Spock cleared his throat then ran after him.

While Spock still had three flights of stairs to descend, Jim was already flying out of the doors leading to the outside. The walkway connecting the street and the hospital had never seemed longer to Jim to as pelted across it, eyes firmly fixed on the figures in the road. The attacker had his back to Jim and the other figure, a man, stood further down the road facing him. The man was cradling what looked like a large wooden bat in his hands as the attacker slowly advanced on him. He didn't seem to notice Jim running towards him.

The attacker was less than a metre away from the man now, and Jim was still too far from them to be any sort of help.

Suddenly, the attacker lunged. An image of being in the supply closet with the thing heading straight at him flashed through his head. Fortunately, the man was more equipped to deal with it than Jim had been at the time.

The bat came to life as the man swung it at the body hurtling towards him. It crashed into the side of the thing's head, making a dull cracking sound, and sending it sprawling to the ground. This slowed it down for about a second then it was back to its feet in a crouch. The man tried a different tactic this time, and jabbed at the thing's throat with the end of the bat. He put his weight behind it and pushed the attacker to the ground, his foot resting heavily on the thing's chest while the bat was firmly in place.

Jim stopped in his run, now a few metres from the scene. The dust that he had kicked up floated around his feet. Spock wasn't far behind him now; Jim could hear the soles of his boots hitting the ground just behind him.

All of the hairs on Jim's arms stood on end when he heard the noise coming from the attacker. The thing near enough shrieked. It was unnerving, but Jim reminded himself that it couldn't have been alive, let alone human. The bat slipped smoothly through the thing's neck like it was a shovel cutting through soil. The dam-breaking-amount of blood that Jim expected to see pour out, never came. Instead, the situation became indefinitely creepier due to its absence. When the bat pulled away, the skin went with it, tearing the thing's neck to pieces. Jim felt a strange sense of justice seeing it, but quickly turned his head to the side when his stomach clenched and flipped over uncomfortably.

He only heard the next few swings. They were getting increasingly more frantic as they went on. The pavement started to take the full brunt of it after a while, and Jim guessed it was safe to look now. He made a point of not glancing down; he didn't want to see what was left of the attacker.

The man was panting short sharp breaths, mostly through his mouth as the stench from the attacker was overwhelming. For the first time, he noticed Jim, and in his heightened sense attacked again without really thinking. Jim was further away than the attacker had been, so his reach wasn't as great.

The bat hit him in the legs and swept his feet out from underneath him, suddenly all he could see was the cloud filled sky above him. Though, that was quickly filled by the form of the man standing over him with the bat raised again. Jim rolled in the dirt, daring to look to the side to see how little the bat had missed him by. The bat was lying there, having been ripped out of the man's hands by Spock and dropped unceremoniously on to the ground. When he clambered to his feet, Spock had the man's arms held behind his back; despite the constant struggling he remained vigilant.

"We're here to help! We're not like those things!"

Jim shouted at the man, hoping that he would understand and calm down. He was well aware that they were probably the first people he had seen in months, and didn't want to frighten him, but he had to raise his voice to be heard over the man's thrashing.

The man suddenly deflated and Spock was left carrying most of his weight. His eyes went wide and he stared at Jim like it was the first time he had really seen him. A few words escaped his lips but none of them formed a full tangible sentence. Spock carefully lowered the man to the ground as his legs didn't seem strong enough to hold any sort of weight, and went to stand next to Jim. As soon as the man felt solid ground he shuffled around so that he was cradling his head with his knees drawn up. Jim frowned at Spock and let out a delayed sigh of relief, he was thankful not to have had his face beaten in, but he wasn't quite sure how to deal with the man.

Jim, ignoring the dirt and all the other things on the ground that he didn't want to know about, approached the hunched over man, dropping to a crouch in front of him.

"Do you understand now? We're not like them. We just want to help and we can't do that if you're attacking us." The man stirred but didn't lift his head. "Do you think you could tell us what happened here?" The man roughly shook his head. His hands rubbed furiously at his forehead which was still resting on his knees. "Please. We can't help if we don't know what we're up against." The man finally mumbled something, but Jim could barely hear it as it was spoken into his lap. "You're going to have to speak up. I can't hear what you're saying."

Jim's calm voice seemed to be working because the man eventually lifted his head, his eyes seeking Jim's. Seeing a friendly face also seemed to be helping as the man stopped shuffling on the spot and some of the tension dissolved off his face. When he spoke, his voice was gruff and dry from being underused for so long.

"It was like a disease. It spread so quickly, no one really stood a chance."

"What did?"

"The mother-fucking zombies!"

Jim winced when the man shouted, so much for using soothing voices. The man seemed to regret it as well because he clasped a hand around his sore throat. Jim still retained his tone, maybe it would calm the man down again.

"We're going to help you. We can get you away from here, away from those things."

At the news of being finally rescued, the man exhausted his leftover energy by getting to his feet. Jim helped as best he could while still trying to keep a small amount of distance. Being alone for so long would make anyone a bit jumpy when it came to contact.

"Are you the sole survivor, or do you know of others?"

The new voice visibly startled the man and Jim glared at Spock for not thinking before he spoke.

"I've seen others. They often pass through the city looking for supplies. I think the last people I saw was around three months ago."

Jim's spirits soared at the news of more survivors, but was dampened slightly when he realised that three months was a long time. They would be miles away by now, and they couldn't search for much longer than they already were. They were stretching their orders thin as it was, three months would be a joke.

"Do you think any of them would have stuck around the city?"

"Maybe. The woman that passed by last said she couldn't do it anymore and was going to find somewhere to hide out until everything blew over, but I don't think that's ever going to happen." He rubbed at his throat again. The talking must have been making it sore. "I don't know if she found somewhere or if she is even still alive. Those fucking zombies might have got her for all I know."

The man seemed well enough to stand comfortably on his feet now. He could walk a few steps without looking like he was going to keel over. The first thing he did was retrieve the bat he had dropped in the scuffle. It was heavy but he managed it, already feeling safer and more composed now that it was in his hands again. He scraped the remains of the attacker off onto the ground. The gruesome gesture didn't bother him and Jim guessed the experience was probably a common event.

"What are these 'zombies'?" Jim questioned. He would have used actual air quotes, but it didn't seem like the appropriate time.

"They're the un-dead. The living-dead. The walking-dead. Whatever you want to call them."

"'Things' seems to be working so far."

"Whatever you call them they're still monsters."

All three of them stood in the middle of the road, the zombie lay in pieces on the floor next to them. They were completely out in the open, an easy target for anyone who might desire to attack them. Yet, they were safe. They had been for most of the time they had been here. Yesterday was the first time they had come across a zombie and the other countless hours they were here they saw nothing.

"What did you mean 'it was like a disease'?"

Jim was aware of certain rare occasions where common diseases had mutated well out of anyone's control. Just look at the common cold. There were millions of different variations of the germ, some stronger than the other, some you could go through without even knowing you had it. Some mutated so far that they couldn't have been classed as a cold. Maybe something like that happened here. A cold that had gone too far.

"These zombies are like infections. They spread quickly and usually off the radar, then before you realise it, everyone has it." Jim scowled, trying to follow. "One bite from those things and you're infected as well. It doesn't matter if they kill you. You come back. You walk around without a heart beat. You're dead but somehow still alive."

Jim gaped. He let out a nervous chuckle then went straight back to frowning.

"They infect you, and then you turn into one of them. Even from a single bite." The man nodded.

Jim glanced at Spock, who was eyeing the communicator on his belt. Jim placed his hand over it protectively. His mind raced and he tried to sort everything out logically before he spoke.

"One of our men was killed yesterday, but he's definitely dead. He's in our morgue."

His eyes wanted to drift over to the zombie on the ground, but he managed to keep them focused on the man. He looked serious and his eyes implored Jim to believe him.

"He won't be for long."

The hand that had been sheltering his communicator snatched it off his belt. Spock stood tensely at his side, leaning closer ever so slightly to hear everything that might be happening.

"Kirk to the Enterprise."

All that echoed back was a stream of static.


	5. Chapter 5

Part 5

It was a slow day in the sickbay, and McCoy found himself hoping that it would pick up. He wasn't asking for an engineering catastrophe which usually resulted in twenty or so people pouring through the doors complaining about varying degrees of burns, but just something that would keep his hands busy. Every time he stopped, his mind drifted to things not medically relevant and when he pulled himself out of it he was normally standing in the same position, one arm folded against his chest while the other rested in front of his frowning lips. Thoughts of the planet they were circling plagued him, and they worried him.

He was debating whether or not to contact Jim, thinking he could pass it off as genuine curiosity and not worry, when someone walked through the sickbay doors. The swishing noise notified him more than actually being able to spot him as his eyes were glazed over with thought.

McCoy felt slightly guilty about his earlier thoughts, not really realising that wishing for more work would mean people getting hurt in the process. Evidently, there had been a bit of a mishap in engineering, not really surprising in reality so McCoy didn't class it as some kind of premonition, and Ensign Ricky had procured a few rather nasty looking burns to his hands and arms. McCoy recognised the smell of burnt hair and flesh straight away sadly and already had the skin regenerator in his hands before he reached him.

Ensign Ricky hissed and grumbled when McCoy set to work. The feeling of having your skin re-stitch itself and grow before your eyes wasn't a very comfortable one, McCoy knew that, but it still didn't stop him from berating the ensign and telling him to stop fidgeting. It didn't take long to fix and pretty soon McCoy found himself standing alone in the sickbay again. Chapel was elsewhere, probably using the free time to relax, something McCoy began to envy.

He waited another ten minutes. It was odd that only one person was hurt in engineering, McCoy had expected a few more people to dribble in a bit later. People usually thought the injury was fine and that they could handle it, but eventually they realise that it still felt like it was on fire and maybe might be more serious than they originally suspected. McCoy stuck around for the stubborn people but they never arrived.

McCoy yawned and stretched his arms above his head. Bones popped and muscles pulled taut and he finally convinced himself that he needed a break as well. He found Chapel, who was sitting back in a chair with a PDA resting on her legs, to let her know where he was, if a medical emergency occurred he didn't want her thinking he had wandered off somewhere.

Once safely in his office, McCoy let the tension drop from his shoulders. The cot tucked away in the corner of the room began to look incredibly comfy and McCoy was drawn to it. He rarely used it; it was just for times when he worked through the night and couldn't be bothered to blindly shuffle through the halls to find his quarters. It was mainly for convenience and not meant for a full nights sleep. It was just as stiff and lumpy as McCoy remembered but at the moment he simply didn't care; he emotionally sank into it, although physically it remained firm and solid under his weight.

He wasn't necessarily tired, but felt lethargic and slow from the boredom. His eyes closed involuntarily as it was the respected response when lying down. One knee was pulled up with his foot planted on the thin sheets he used for covers, and his arm was thrown over his forehead as though it was trying to cram all the thoughts of Jim and Levicity back into his head. He was beginning to succeed in clearing his head and finally relaxing when he heard a light tapping at the door. McCoy reluctantly pulled himself up from the cot, swaying from sudden head rush, and made his way towards the door; he couldn't remember locking it but apparently he had, otherwise whoever it was wouldn't be knocking.

McCoy was threading a hand through his hair when the door opened and revealed Uhura standing on the other side. She didn't look surprised by him being so dishevelled and simply nodded at him in greeting.

"I'm sorry to interrupt your resting Doctor, but I thought, maybe you could use some company. Or more to the point, that you could be some company for me." She smiled softly at him, and McCoy wordlessly moved to the side gesturing that she could come inside.

"You're not interrupting anything. I don't think it would be possible for me to fall asleep at the moment, even if I wanted to."

She elegantly stepped into the room and stopped near his desk. McCoy nodded repeatedly when she indicated to the chair, silently asking if it was alright for her to sit down. The grace in her movements was infinitely different to the way Jim had settled into the chair the day before.

"I'd offer you a drink, but all I have in here is hard whisky and brandy."

"It's all right. I didn't come here to get drunk."

"That makes a change. The only other person who comes in here is Jim, and that's only because he knows it's easier to get booze from me than it is from Scotty."

Talking about Jim reminded McCoy of why he hid himself away in his office in the first place. Jim was still down on Levicity, doing only God knows what, while he and everyone else were stuck up here waiting. It suddenly clicked in his mind why Uhura was here. It wasn't just Jim that had gone on the suicide mission; Spock was also there, following his Captain like always. Uhura was probably just as worried as he was, and also just like him was unsure how to deal with it.

McCoy felt strangely awkward about Uhura tracking him down to talk. It was normal for her to worry, she was involved with Spock, and it would be more disconcerting if she didn't care. Though, why was he worrying? He and Jim certainly weren't involved. They were best friends, not lovers despite everyone vehemently saying so. Was it normal for him to worry about Jim an equal amount as someone worrying about a significant other? Probably not.

"I can see why the Captain went; it's just his nature to jump into things head first and not think about what he might be leaving behind, but I can't seem to figure out why Spock went with him." Uhura searched McCoy's face while they glossed over the truths about Jim. "Normally, he'd just talk the Captain out of the seriously stupid ideas, but this time he just went with him."

McCoy dropped into his chair, then quickly shuffled around when he realised how lazy his position must have looked to Uhura who was still sitting prim and proper.

"He probably heard what happened when I tried to talk him out of it. He probably thought it would just be easier to give in." McCoy knew how un-Spock-like that sounded, but he never had been very experienced at comforting people. This was the best he could do. "He's most likely using all his logic to keep Jim from martyring himself down there." Uhura smiled and agreed that that was a very logical idea. "At least this way, we have a better chance of getting them both back safely."

They each calculated the likelihood of both of them coming back to the Enterprise scratch-free, and the figures didn't really comfort them.

Someone was suddenly screaming McCoy's name, and he figured the shrill noise could only have been Chapel. McCoy floundered for a second, still lost in numbers and percentages, before finally regaining sure footing again. Uhura had also shot to her feet, though a lot smoother than McCoy had. They rushed out of his office; McCoy feeling grateful that he hadn't drank any whisky that would be dulling his reactions right now. Chapel was still shouting but it was less panicked, the shock of whatever it's about gone but the supposed danger still remained.

They found her in the morgue, back against the wall near the doorway, looking as though she was trying to move through it. She was staring wide-eyed at the wall of metal doors and trays in front of her. McCoy could hear an irregular thumping noise, which he guessed was his heart. The shouting had obviously scared him more than he though it had.

"There's something in there." Chapel whispered.

Apparently McCoy was wrong. The thumping wasn't his heart; it was whatever was trying to fight its way out of the freezers. He recognised that the noise sounded like something hitting metal and couldn't be coming from him.

"It's coming from Williams." McCoy whispered back.

From the doorway, he could see the thick metal door, to the chamber Williams' body was lying in, shaking from the force of something hitting it. The card stating Williams' name and time of death, written in McCoy's own scrawl, was shifting and jumping about in the slot it was in on the door.

"Maybe he's still alive." Uhura breathed, reminding McCoy that she was standing right next to him.

"That's impossible. His heart stopped. I was there." McCoy sent Uhura an anxious look. "He's been declared dead for over 12 hours now."

"Well, if it's not him, then what is it?"

McCoy didn't answer Uhura because he had no idea what to say. It was impossible that Williams could be alive. Medicine had certainly improved over the years but they hadn't gone so far that they could bring people back to life. That was still classed as fantasy.

The thumping slowed until it eventually stopped. The silence that followed wasn't much better. McCoy stepped into the morgue, leaving Uhura at the door and Chapel at the wall. He advanced on the chamber that Williams lay in; his hand reaching for the handle, and he heard Chapel moving behind him. She took his place in the doorway next to Uhura and waited tensely.

It hissed when he opened it just like it had done when he shut it. Williams' body had been covered in a white sheet and, when he wheeled the slab out, McCoy noticed that the sheet had slipped off the man's arm, showing the equally as white skin underneath. Any signs of movement were nonexistent now, and the body was lying perfectly still.

McCoy risked a look back at Uhura and Chapel, they were watching with interest, before he lifted his hand to grasp the sheet. McCoy's hand was centimetres away from Williams' face, fingers ready to peel the sheet back, when a pale hand shot out and grabbed his wrist. His first reaction was to pull back so he did, dragging the attached hand with him. The previously dead weight hit the ground with a shudder, the sheet falling away from the body. It was definitely Williams who lay on the ground with his hand wrapped around McCoy's wrist, but his eyes held a haunted look that McCoy never wanted to remember.

Williams must have been trying to use McCoy to lift himself off the ground, because he kept pulling at him and tried to bring McCoy's arm closer to him. McCoy tried his best to help but the shock was too much. His limbs had turned to jelly and he was having trouble holding himself up let alone someone else's weight as well.

McCoy had somehow managed to convince himself that this really was Williams. He couldn't explain it, but he was alive and well enough to move about. This train of thought was going so well and it began to make sense to McCoy until he heard the growl rip its way out of Williams' throat. McCoy placed it in an instant, the last time he heard a growl like that was yesterday from that thing in the supply closet.

McCoy tore his hand away just in time, barely missing the scrape of teeth on his skin. Williams toppled over on to the ground again, now that he had nothing holding him up. Chapel gasped behind him, McCoy had almost forgotten they were here. He backed away slowly being careful not to take his eyes off Williams, who was crawling across the morgue floor towards him. His back hit the wall just to the side of the door, and he slide sideways until he was standing in front of Chapel and Uhura. As though he was guarding them, he placed a hand on either side of the doorframe, making sure his body blocked the only exit from the morgue.

They watched in near silence, excusing McCoy's rapid breathing, as Williams attempted to drag his body across the floor. He wasn't moving very fast, and had to stop a few times because his arms gave way beneath him, but he slowly but surely crept towards McCoy. When it was close enough, it reached out a shaky hand again, grasping weakly at the bottom of McCoy's leg. He tried to wrestle it free, but Williams held on surprisingly tight. Figuring that the passive way wasn't getting him anywhere, McCoy kicked. His boot hit Williams square in the face, and if this really was Williams it would have broken his nose, but this thing just kept coming. McCoy kicked blindly again, with more strength this time, and it knocked Williams back enough for McCoy to get out of his reach.

He felt another hand on his arm, and was about to whip around to punch whatever it was, until he realised it was Chapel. She pushed a hypospray into his hand and closed his fingers around it. The metal felt just as cold as Williams' hand, it was unnerving to say the least.

Williams was still struggling to get up after being kicked in the face repeatedly. He was on his back and was thrashing about uncontrollably. McCoy thought this would be the best opportunity to get closer without Williams noticing. He moved towards Williams' feet with the hypospray poised in his hand; when he was within reach he dropped and grabbed Williams' knee pushing his leg down and straight then stabbed him in the thigh. Williams barely recognised the pain, he was too busy twisting and curling around on the floor. McCoy dropped the now useless hypospray which clattered noisily and scrambled back to the door.

They waited in perfect silence. Williams should have slowed by now; his movement should have become sluggish and he should have been stilling, but he wasn't. Instead of stopping he seemed to thrash more. He had eventually managed to lift himself into a sitting position and was trying to crawl at them again, so McCoy reluctantly conceded that there was nothing they could do. He shuffled both Chapel and Uhura out of the doorway, back into the sickbay, and followed suit after he locked the morgue door behind him.

"The sedative didn't work." Chapel sounded breathless and McCoy couldn't blame her, the amount of drugs in that hypospray was enough to put a man in a coma, yet he could still hear Williams moving in the next room.

"I know." The locked door to the morgue shook when Williams slammed into it. McCoy felt thankful that this door was thicker and stronger than the flimsy looking door that held the attacker in a supply closet down on the planet's surface. "How many other bodies do we have in there?"

Chapel was obviously confused but she answered McCoy after struggling for words for a few seconds.

"Ur…two, Evans and Call, both being taken to their families. Why?"

"I don't know how this thing works," he gestured vaguely in the direction of the morgue behind him, "but I don't want an epidemic on our hands."

Another bang and McCoy cringed at the force behind it. Williams seemed to physically stronger than the attacker had been but he still held hope in the door staying solid. He caught Chapel's eye and pointed a, splayed fingered, hand at her.

"Do not open the door."

McCoy then marched out of the sickbay. Uhura nodded at Chapel, glanced at the door, double checking that it was still safely closed, then followed after him. She managed to catch up with him before the turbo lift doors closed on her. They didn't say anything to each other as neither one of them knew what to say. What do you say to someone who was just attacked by a man who was, very recently, dead? Uhura, for once, was at a loss for words.

The doors opened revealing the bridge. It was unusually quiet and empty without the Captain and Science Officer. Jim being the loud one, and Spock inevitably being a person that took up space. Chekov and Sulu were still at their stations and Scotty was doing his job as the makeshift Captain while Jim was off planet side. He took his temporary job with pride, and had even tried to emulate the way Jim would lounge in the chair; either that or he was just genuinely bored. His eyes lit up when McCoy and Uhura stalked onto the bridge, all business-like. They, on the other hand, didn't even glance at Scotty and went straight to Uhura's station. Scotty twirled in the chair to watch them curiously.

"Something exciting's happening."

Uhura dropped into the chair, with less grace than she had in his office, and pressed the earpiece to her ear, pushing various blinking buttons as she did so. McCoy stood waiting tensely, leaning forward so that his hands rested on the surface of her station. He stared as she worked, but she ignored him and kept her eyes on the flashing lights instead. She had to reach around McCoy's arm a few times to flick a switch or push a button, but he didn't back away. Uhura guessed, judging by the defiant look in his eyes, that he didn't even realise he was in the way. She pushed as many sequences of buttons as she could remember, but none of them seemed to work.

"There's nothing but static. It's not getting through."

McCoy brought his fist down heavily on the station and the fierce noise was enough to inform Scotty, and the rest of the bridge, of the severity of the situation. He pushed himself away from station and began to pace, he tried not to think how it had become second nature to him.

Scotty leapt up from the Captains chair, almost crashing into McCoy who had unwittingly wandered into his path, and left in the turbo lift. He didn't say where he was heading, and no one asked him. Sulu, who still wasn't completely up to date with what was going on but willing to help nonetheless, offered to drift closer to the planet, his reasoning being that maybe the Captain's signal would be stronger. Uhura nodded, not seeing how it could make matters worse.

McCoy's pacing brought him to his usual spot on the bridge. He'd lost count of how many hours he had spent standing behind and just to the side of the Captains chair. The amount of times he had asked Jim why he had been ordered to the bridge when nothing was wrong was also uncountable high. Every time he would threaten to go back to the sickbay where his presence would be more useful, and Jim would grin and laugh at him saying he was free to do so. He rarely left though, only if an emergency occurred, because leaving felt like he had lost the battle, with Jim's laughter ringing in his ears as he walked away.

The chair was empty now, smaller looking as well without Jim's commanding persona filling it. McCoy placed his hands on the back, grasping the material like he had done so many times before. His hands felt a bit lost when they didn't brush against Jim's back or shoulder, depending on how low he had slouched. It wasn't that he was worried; their missions seemed to have a habit of going wrong, but they always turned it around and survived in the end. Then again, they'd never gone up against the flesh eating walking dead before, so maybe their past records had no significance in this matter.

Scotty's voice chirped up over the intercom. All heads on the bridge turned towards the noise.

"Strangely, the transporters are still working fine, but with no working communicators we can't contact the Captain. I'm afraid they're stuck there until we can pinpoint their location and lock on to a signal."

McCoy leaned over the back of the chair, stretching for one of the buttons on the arm that would allow him to talk to Scotty.

"So what do you suppose we do? I doubt they can do much down there, so we're going to have to fix this."

"I'm not sure. I guess we could run scans; there can't be much life down there so they'd be pretty easy to find. Though, we still wouldn't be able to beam them up because the scans aren't nearly good enough. We can narrow their location down to a general area, but that's about it."

"That's not good enough Mr Scott. We need them back now." McCoy tried to keep his voice level as he knew others were listening to him, but it still ended up sounded a bit frantic.

"I'll do what I can Doctor, but they will still be stuck there for quite a while."

Scotty was being nothing but logical, but McCoy still felt the urge to reach through the intercom to throttle the man. He knew it wouldn't help, and would in fact only prolong the wait, but he couldn't help but think it. Thankfully, science meant that he couldn't so he instead glared daggers at the intercom on the wall where Scotty's disembodied voice was coming from. In the back of McCoy's head a voice reminded him that he was not worried, but he was starting to doubt it.

"I've got it! This should work!"

Everyone turned from the intercom to Chekov, who was flapping his hands in front of him in triumph. Sulu had been the only one not watching the intercom and had seen Chekov hurriedly tapping and calculating with his slim fingers while everyone else was busy.

"What exactly have you got?" McCoy questioned roughly, while still holding the button down on the chair so Scotty could also hear.

"A way to help the Captain and Mr Spock." Sulu, who had leaned across the console to catch a glimpse of what Chekov had been working on, had to dodge Chekov's arm when he gestured along with his words, narrowly missing a finger in the eye. "The planet is emitting an electrical field that doesn't mix with the frequency we use for our communicators. All we need to do is modify a communicator a bit and then it should work on the planet's surface."

"I'll be there in minute." Scotty voiced over the intercom, allowing McCoy to finally let go of the button.

When he made it to the bridge he doubled checked Chekov's calculations. They mumbled and gestured between them for a couple of minutes, everyone else just silently watching, until they seemed to come to an agreement.

"Ok, this should be easy enough. We'll have to modify two communicators, one for the surface and one for here. Then comes the hard bit, someone's going to have to beam down and locate them as it's the only way we can get their signal, but we'll worry about that once we get this done."

Scotty and Chekov then left for engineering, throwing calculations that only they understood at each other. Sulu changed course back to their original orbit, seeing as distance wasn't the problem anymore. Uhura remained at her station, attempting every channel of frequency. While McCoy stood behind the Captains chair, already adamant about being the one who would beam down. He stood for a few minutes as others worked around him, before finally convincing himself to go back to sickbay. Williams was still waiting for him, and he knew that he should go back just to check Chapel was okay.

---

Jim had already come to terms with being stuck on the planet, he didn't like the idea but there wasn't much he could do about it at the moment. The man, or Ash as he had introduced himself, took unwanted pity on their situation and explained that he had a place where they could stay out of harms way while they figured out a solution. Jim thanked him and they followed him through some alleyways and backstreets they wouldn't have gone down otherwise.

Before they had left the area surrounding the hospital, Jim had motioned towards the battered body of the attacker on the ground, wondering what they should do with it. Ash had shook his head at his concern, then approached the body, leaning over it slightly as though his actions were about to contradict themselves. Jim found he had been mistaken when all Ash ended up doing was spitting on the corpse and giving it a hard kick for good measure, instead of lifting it off the road like Jim though he was going to do. The, now twice lifeless, body jolted when the boot connected with it, sending it rolling slightly on its side. Ash started down the road then and Jim had no choice but to follow as he didn't want to get lost. Spock trailed after as well, slightly slower as he was tinkering with the communicator at the same time.

They were walking for no longer than ten minutes when they reached a large empty parking lot at the end of a road. They had ventured into the more rural side of the city now; the buildings were growing smaller in size and grandeur and were starting to look a little rundown in places. The building tucked away at the back of the parking lot was the biggest building Jim had seen, in the rural area anyway. The side facing them was made out of wide windows and a set of glass doors, while the others were solid and bricked up. If it weren't for the windows it would have been a perfect place to hide out in; strongly built, squished at the end of a road and the only way to approach it was through a, very out in the open, parking lot, which from the building you had a clear view of.

Ash stalked towards it with confidence, heading for the entrance doors, while Jim and Spock followed at a less enthusiastic pace. There wasn't a single car in the parking lot, something which appeared odd to Jim as abandoned cars seemed pretty common back in the city. It didn't seem significant enough to openly question, though, so Jim dropped it. Spock either hadn't noticed the lack of cars, or it simply didn't bother him, because he kept walking without a pause or a curious glance.

Once they had slipped inside, Jim realised what kind of a building it was. It was filled with brightly coloured, mostly bare, aisles with a row of tills near the doors. It was a supermarket. The large windows meant that it was lit up enough so that Jim could see the other end of the aisle he stood at, and the set up also meant he could make out the edge of the parking lot from the other side of the room.

Ash passed Jim as he wandered down an aisle with very little in, making his way towards a wooden door at the opposite end to the entrance. He pushed it open with trepidation, he didn't enter the room on the other side until the door was fully open and he was sure they were safe.

It was dark inside, the only window was boarded up, but it was so small that Jim thought it wouldn't have provided much light anyway. The only light in the room was streaming through the open door and it showed the lived-in pile of sheets in the corner which was obviously a temporary bed for Ash. The rest of the room was blacked out and looked endless. Jim waited in the doorframe, not trusting the unknown. Ash propped up the bat against the wall near his bed and turned back to Jim with a half smile on his face.

"I think it would be best to talk out there. The lack of electricity means things get pretty dark without windows."

They returned to the brighter side of the building where Spock stood waiting for them. Ash went over to where the tills were lined up and sat down on the floor, resting with his back to one of them and his legs drawn up. Jim caught Spock's rare look of discomfort when Ash stared expectantly at them. Jim dropped down onto the floor not really caring, while it took a second for Spock to awkwardly drop to a crouch. Smiling at Spock's reluctance, Jim shifted so he was more relaxed and then sent the smile to Ash.

"You were quite lucky to find a place like this to hide out. It's fairly secure and you have enough supplies it would seem."

"I was more than lucky, this was a miracle. I didn't even know this place existed, but I guess a lot of people didn't know about it either because it wasn't ransacked when I found it." Ash pointed towards to aisles behind Jim. "Everything's still pretty much intact which is surprising. There is even a gun still hidden behind one of the counters." He changed the direction he was pointing and brought his thumb up to point over his shoulder instead. "I haven't used it yet, haven't even touched it. I thought I'd save it for when something big happens."

Spock shuffled his feet, his legs having already fallen asleep from the position he was in. Jim grinned when Spock finally gave up and sat on the dirty floor with his legs crossed.

"It would be imperative that you don't use it. The air on this planet is highly unstable and the unbalanced reaction of gun fire would result in our probable deaths." Spock managed to get out after finding a more comfortable sitting arrangement.

Ash frowned in puzzlement, and Jim couldn't help but be reminded of Bones. He thought he should step in to save him from his confusion.

"What he means is guns equal a big fucking explosion."

An expression of dawning realisation spread over Ash's face and he nodded fervently, proving that he now understood.

"So it's a good thing I didn't give in to temptation and try it out then?"

"Monumentally, yes." Jim smiled in reassurance, as Spock's calculating glare wasn't helping to quell the man's apparent fears.

"I guess the cricket bat will have to do for now. Oh well, it seems to do the trick so far."

Jim looked over at Spock, who was clutching the broken communicator in his hand. He couldn't get it to work, and had explained to Jim on the journey that it would be up to Enterprise to help them.

"You said you had seen survivors. Do you know where any of them might be?"

The more serious topic sobered Ash again.

"Not for certain, no. But the woman that passed by last might still be around here somewhere. She was heading north, that about all I know."

"Well, if she's here, we're going to find her. We need to help as many people as we can."

"What about yourselves? You're stuck here, why not worry about that?"

"My crew is smart. They'll think of something."

Jim was sure of that. His voice was full of conviction. Besides, he knew that Bones would be a barely containable tornado of rage up there; he would be trying everything to get Jim back just so he could rub in his face how right he was. His crew would have to figure something out just so that they could get Bones off their backs. He had no worries about being stuck on the planet for a little while; he was free to focus on helping the survivors.

"Well, I guess I could help, seeing as you are rescuing me and all."

"It is the least you could do." Jim grinned.

Ash pulled himself to his feet, peering out of the windows at the steadily retreating sun. He turned back to Jim and Spock who were still seated on the floor, and put his hands firmly on his hips.

"I'm guessing you're going to want to do this right away, aren't you?" He continued without waiting for an answer, he already knew what it was anyway. "If we go now then there is still about two or three hours of sunlight left, but after that we have to stop. It's best to stay inside when the sun sets. The zombies like to travel at night."

"How many are there?" Jim was brushing down his trousers as he spoke, standing in front of Ash, eyes now level.

"What, zombies? The most I've seen in one place is about a hundred. This was back when I explored at night. They were crowded around one of those office buildings in the city, all of them looking up." Ash mimicked what they must have looked like, craning his neck back to stare at the ceiling. "Standing perfectly still like statues. I figured there must have been people holed up inside because they stayed most of the night. I watched, but gave up before they did; they don't get hunger pains or ever need to take a piss, so they have an advantage." Ash crossed his arms over his red t-shirt clad chest and leaned back with his hip resting on he counter. "I went back in the day and they were lying there on the floor. Must have jumped. People do anything to avoid being eaten by these zombies, which includes killing yourself."

The tone had certainly darkened, and the sun had dipped behind a cloud and the shop literally darkened as well. Ash looked down at his feet, arms still crossed protectively over his chest. Jim stepped forward and clapped a hand on Ash's arm, startling him out of his flashback.

"We're going to help who we can."

"To do that, we are going to need weapons, Captain."

Jim turned away from Ash to face Spock. He had to glance down when he noticing he was still sitting cross-legged on the floor, despite his earlier reservations.

"Spock's right. We're going to need to find some sort of weapon before we can leave, just in case."

"You're in luck. This is right where I found my trusty cricket bat."

Ash tore off down the aisles, glancing every which way looking for something. Jim offered a hand to Spock, and helped lift him to his feet before he began curiously following the many turns and twists Ash did to find what he was looking for.

"Here we are, sporting goods." Ash exclaimed from the next aisle over from the one Jim was in.

He rounded the corner to find Ash with his arms framing a selection of sporting paraphernalia.

"The baseball bats are lighter, which would be better if we're going to walking for quite a while."

Jim's eyes honed in on the varying bats, noting that the baseball bats were metal. He spotted a familiar cricket bat, though this one was less weathered and even a few tennis rackets and footballs.

"They are a bit primitive." Spock rumbled, having just appeared next to Jim.

Jim laughed at Spock's concerns and reached forward to grab one of the baseball bats to pass to him and then one for himself. They were indeed quite light, though definitely sturdy enough to do some damage if force were put behind them.

"Just aim for the head. It seems to work so far."

---

Scotty and Chekov returned to the bridge about an hour later. Sulu and Uhura were still there working, and McCoy was already back after having just received the notice that they were ready a few minutes ago. In his hands were two communicators, they looked exactly the same as they usually did, but McCoy knew that they were much more important than that. These were the things that were going to save Jim's life. As well as himself of course.

"Now that's done, we need to find someone willing to go down there."

"I'll do it." McCoy spoke quickly, wanting to get his answer in before anyone else had a chance. "They might be hurt for all we know, it makes sense that I should go."

Everyone else nodded at McCoy, not wanting to say anything against him. They could see how worked up he was getting already and they didn't want to add to it. Uhura did glance sceptically at him, realising that in his state he would be tempted to make rash decisions. She didn't blame him though, as she recognised the wild look in his eyes as something similar to her own. She knew McCoy was worried about the Captain, but she was also worried about Spock. She was about to suggest something when McCoy beat her to it.

"I think it would be best if you stayed here. If there is a chance the communicators don't work, we need someone here who can work around that."

Uhura reluctantly withdrew, knowing McCoy was right. Sulu talked up next, grabbing everyone's attention.

"I'll go with you. You're going to need someone who can at least hold their own in a fight."

McCoy scowled but agreed.

It took a couple of minutes to make it to the transporter room, Scotty was running through the plan several times, making sure that both McCoy and Sulu understood. McCoy had the working communicator strapped to belt securely. His hand kept guiding towards it subconsciously, but he would quickly snatch it back when he realised where his hand was resting.

Sulu was basically bouncing as he walked. McCoy kept sending him side long looks, frowning at the other's energy. He felt an urge to explain to Sulu what he had seen when he had been on the planet in vivid, gory detail and then watch how his excitement would quickly disappear, but thought against it. He didn't want Sulu to chicken out and leave him going to planet alone. His dire need to have Jim back safe wasn't strong enough to make his fearless in the face of death.

Suddenly, they were standing on the transporter pads, waiting for Scotty to deem everything safe. McCoy felt light and empty without his medical equipment weighing him down, it wasn't a feeling he was use to. He had convinced himself that it would be a waste of time bringing anything, besides the communicator. The equipment didn't work last time and would just be unneeded weight slowing him down and they all know how bringing a phaser with them was instant suicide.

"I'll be beaming you down right where you left off yesterday, Doctor. They can't have gone too far in a few hours."

McCoy again felt light and empty, but this time it was all the transporters doing. Solid ground disappeared from under his feet for a second, but was quickly replaced. Scotty was gone as well and a large white hospital stood in his place. McCoy turned to Sulu to see him gaping at the area surrounding them.

"Come on, we better get started."

It took a while for Sulu to tear his eyes away from the deserted street and randomly strewn cars, but he eventually did and jogged after McCoy, who was already half way down the street.


	6. Chapter 6

Part 6

After a small amount of probing from Jim, Ash remembered seeing a group of survivors trying to break in to the shopping centre earlier in the year. He doubted the very same people were still there after almost a year, but he guessed that it was possible that other people had the same idea and might be there now. For the time being, he just thought that it was a good idea to have a destination in mind before they set off. It was a place that was well known and popular back when things were a bit more populated, and it would only be natural for people to gravitate towards it. Jim and Spock had no reason to disagree, so they left the supermarket and started across the empty parking lot again.

Ash estimated that it would be about a 30 minute walk and they should get there well before darkness sets in. He kept reminding them how unsafe it was to be outside after the sun had set, and Jim could tell from the haunted look in his eyes, that he was talking from experience.

The sun was low, but not dangerously so. They reached the edge of the parking lot again, but instead of turning left and manoeuvring around all the narrow alleyways and such, they carried on going straight. The smaller buildings and houses were not tall enough to block out the setting sun and the rays were blinding Jim of everything to the right of him. No one but him seemed to be having a problem with the sun though. Spock stared ahead making no attempt to shade his eyes; Jim noted that he was probably use to higher temperatures and glaring sun. While Ash was marching in front of them, with the cricket bat positioned so expertly on his shoulder that it formed a shield across his eyes. Jim glanced at the baseball bat in his hands for a second, before he regretfully settled on the bat being too thin to be of any use against the sun.

They had only been walking for a few minutes, the silence becoming too unsettling, before Ash felt the need to speak. Every building, house, intersection or street name seemed to have a story behind it, and Ash felt only too obliged to share them.

Many of the office buildings in the background, he described, had gone bankrupt long before all of this had started, and that explained why some looked more run down than others. Rarely, Ash had stories of families that lived in the homes they passed. Jim didn't know how Ash knew all this, and for all he knew he was making all this up just to have an excuse to fill the silence, but he listened nonetheless. At the first intersection they came across, Ash recalled a horrific accident he had witnessed involving three cars and a bus. This had been a couple of months before the zombie outbreak, so Ash put it down to the driver's negligence and not anything zombie related. A few of the street names also had extravagant tales about how they came about, and even Jim was having a hard time believing them. Ash continued regardless, each story becoming more confusing and hard to follow, until Jim stopped listening and left Ash to his words. They seemed to be aimed mostly at himself now anyway.

All the stories of people, families and general life fell flat as they were being spoken to the empty streets and houses around them. There was no sign of life anywhere around them, although Jim was now adamant about the fact that there really were survivors somewhere, he just didn't know where exactly.

Spock had obviously stopped listening to Ash as well; either that or he hadn't bothered listening in the first place, because he placed a hand on Jim's shoulder and held him back a few paces letting Ash walk a bit further ahead. Ash was so lost in his stories that he didn't notice them hanging back.

"I believe the Enterprise will have figured out that we are unreachable by now. Hopefully they are working hard at finding a way to help us." Spock didn't bother lowering his voice, despite pulling him away from Ash. Jim wasn't sure why Spock had chosen to do that, it wasn't like Ash wouldn't want to know if they were close to being rescued.

"It shouldn't take very long, especially with Bones hovering over their shoulders." Jim smiled.

"The Doctor's constant presence should certainly speed things along."

Spock nodded at him, signalling the end of the impromptu conversation. He then hastened his footsteps, bringing himself near Ash again. Jim was a bit confused as to why Spock had initiated such a pointless conversation, and it wasn't until he hurried back to his side that he realised Spock was attempting to comfort him. He had been trying to assure him of the fact that they wouldn't have to be stuck on this planet for much longer, and Jim appreciated that more than he let either of them know.

Ash had stilled in his reminiscing and had returned the air to its equal stillness. Without the muttering words to focus on again, Jim found his thoughts beginning to return to him. It didn't take long for his head to be filled with thoughts of the Enterprise, his crew and Bones. He had complete faith in his crew. He knew they'd find some way to help them and he knew Bones would be jumping at every chance to help. Though that was what was worrying him. Bones would try anything to help, even if that meant putting himself at risk. Jim could only hope that, whatever their solution was to their predicament, it involved as little danger as possible, but he knew the chances of that happening were slim at best.

"We're here."

Jim snapped back to attention, finally taking in what was in front of him. The shopping centre was huge. From what he could see, it circled around and formed a large doughnut shape. What was in the middle, he didn't know. The closest entrance doors were off in the distance, and Jim could barely see them over the railings surrounding a small lake of water outside them. Ash approached the body of water, clutching the railing in his hand. When Jim joined him and looked out over the surface, he spotted the series of tubes hidden underneath. Jim guessed it had once been a fountain, but now that there was no source of power, the water remained untouched and free of ripples.

They followed the railings around the edge of the lake, until they eventually reached the doors. It was a surprisingly long walk, and Jim was left wondering how big it actually was inside. The chances of finding someone who didn't want to be found were quickly escalating to near impossible. Unsurprisingly, the doors were boarded up. Normally this would have been a good sign that there was someone hiding inside, but Jim noted how worn they looked and even spotted a few of them shuddering weakly from the strain of holding themselves up, and he relented that they wouldn't do a very good job of protecting someone.

Proving just how right Jim was, Ash barely had his palm on the wood, covering a shattered glass door, when it just fell off and crashed on to the floor. The noise echoed throughout the shopping centre and Ash cringed with his hand held out in front of him. It was easy to get inside through the gap the wood had left and they were soon standing inside the darkened empty shopping centre. Stepping on the board of wood was inevitable when they climbed in and it cracked under Ash's weight, showing how brittle and useless it really was as Ash was thinnest of the group.

"I doubt we'll be able to get back to the supermarket before it gets dark, so we'll have to stay the night here I think. There should be somewhere safe and secure enough." Ash's voice bounced off the ceiling and dusty floors, repeating itself a few times until it disappeared through the building.

Jim felt his head moving in affirmation, but he wasn't really listening, he was too busy scoping out the shopping centre looking for anyplace that someone could hide out in. Something was pulling him to the right, he didn't know what the reason was but he was being inexplicitly carted off in that direction, so he followed it. Spock saw him striding confidently and jogged to catch up, leaving Ash with no decision but to trail after them.

Almost every shop was shut and locked. Metal rails had been lowered in front of the windows and doors making it impossible to see inside them. Jim pressed his face against them, peering through the windows, but the bars obscured everything that was partially visible. They continued walking around, stopping every so often to check a shop that caught their eye, when they reached a set of motionless escalators leading to the upper floor of the shopping centre. Without power, they were made redundant and didn't differ from the set of stairs that was placed in between them. Despite this, Jim still chose the stairs. A part of him didn't trust the escalators to stay dead, considering the track record this place held.

He had just reached the second floor, his foot only hitting the ground a split-second prior, when the sound of something clattering echoed throughout the high-ceilinged room. Ash instantly stopped mid-step, foot hanging uselessly in the air, staring off in to the distance, straining his ears to hear the sound. It sounded again, but was slightly different, this time it sounded like something scraping across the floor.

From his place halfway up the stairs, Spock was at a better vantage point to see parts of both floors at the same time, compared to Jim who was at the top and Ash who had yet to start climbing them. His hand tightened around the hand rail as he leaned over the edge. No one moved. They each stared off in a different direction. Waiting. Listening.

Jim was first to spot a light at the end of a hallway running between two shops on the second floor. It was obviously handheld because it was darting across the walls and floors, shaking in the person's hands. He couldn't see who was holding it, but it was enough of a reason to tear off after them.

The sudden movement from Jim alerted both Spock and Ash. Spock was closer, quicker and matching Jim's speed in a moment. Whereas Ash was further away, loaded down with the lofty cricket bat and was only a few steps up the stairs while Spock and Jim raced down the hallway.

Just like the rest of the place, the hallway was equally as nondescript looking. The tiled floor made up interchangeable patterns that didn't seem to have any order and quickly blurred under Jim's sprinting legs. The walls appeared to be a pale brown, almost orange colour and shined a blinding white when the light passed over them. There was an open door on the left side of the hallway that was steadily drawing closer; the light streaked out around the door frame and cast lined black and white images on the opposite wall. Jim barely paid attention to any of it. His eyes never left the door he was running full pelt towards. He was aware of Spock just behind him only because he knew he would be there, not because he could see or hear him.

When Jim crossed the threshold he was immediately blinded. He brought up a hand to try and block the bright light, but it didn't really help. His steps finally faltered and he skidded to a halt. He heard Spock do the same as his boots squeaked on the tiles. Even through his eyelids, he could see the dazzling light being aimed at him. It was disorientating and, for a second, Jim forgot where he was.

All of a sudden it went dark. Jim could still see rings of light that had burnt into his eyes due to their intensity, but when he opened them he was surrounded in semi-darkness again. The change in lighting drew a hiss from Jim, and he instantly regretted making a noise when he heard a shuffle of footsteps from the back of the room he couldn't properly see. The figure stampeded across the room then Jim heard a door slam. Then there was silence.

It didn't take long for Jim's eyes to adjust to the dark, and by that time Ash had joined him and Spock in the room. Not knowing whether he should break the silence, Jim pointed wordlessly towards the door off in the back of the room when Ash sent him a questionable stare. Ash understood right away and approached it, making sure to keep his footsteps light until they knew what it was. Jim didn't follow; he stood by the door staying exactly where he had skidded to a stop. Spock marched into the room and dropped into a crouch next to a pile of items in the corner. He prodded them in the dark, trying to work out what they were by feel alone. His hand clasped around cold metal and he guessed they were unlabeled cans, but everything else was impossible to work out.

Through the hazy murkiness, Jim could make out Ash's arms waving, beckoning them closer to the door he had his ear pressed against. The cricket bat in his hand made it easier to see. Jim grabbed Spock's shoulder as he walked past; pulling him towards the door since he hadn't noticed Ash's flailing arms.

"There's definitely someone in there. I can hear someone crying." Ash whispered, turning his head away just for a second.

Sure enough, when Jim sidled up next to Ash, copying his position, he could hear a mumbled voice through the wood. It sounded almost hysterical even though it was so quiet, and every so often there was a quivering intake of breath as though someone was trying desperately to breathe deep and shallow, but not being able to fully control it. By the sound of it, it was a woman.

"What should we do? She's obviously scared and whatever we do will probably only make her worse considering the state she's in."

Jim stepped away from the door and talked a little louder than Ash had. He stood with the hand holding the baseball bat on his hip and the other out in front of him, as if it was clawing for ideas. The shadows made it hard to see each others faces, but Jim was sure that he spotted a look on wonder on Ash's face. Before he could question it, Ash was leaning into the door again, a palm against the surface. The wood was stronger than the ones boarding up the shopping centre and didn't crumble under his hands. When he spoke, it was loud but confident, almost reassuring in its certainty.

"Jill, is that you? It's me Ash. Do you remember me? We met a couple of months ago outside the supermarket."

Ash was only guessing it was the women he had met a few months ago, as he couldn't think of anyone else that might have stopped here. Jill had been the only woman survivor he had seen and it only seemed right that she would have survived and be hiding somewhere close by.

The shuddering breaths stopped. There was silence on both sides of the door, and Jim found himself holding his own breath in anticipation. The woman didn't speak though, and Jim began to worry that Ash had got it wrong and this wasn't the woman he had met. Ash also looked a bit put out and resorted to another technique, one that Jim recognized.

"We're here to help you. We are not zombies, I promise you. We just want to get you to safety." Ash's voice took on a pleading tone, but still managed to remain convincing and thoughtful. The silence returned and the tension built with it.

Finally a small, shaky voice responded through the door. Jim barely heard it even in the silence, but Ash jumped at the voice and grinned nonetheless.

"Ash?"

"Yes! I'm Ash, and there are two guys with me who have come to help us, to rescue us."

"I remember you."

"And I remember you Jill. I asked you to stay with me in the supermarket, I said I could keep us both safe, but you said no. You wanted to find somewhere more secure, somewhere you recognized and knew your way about, remember?"

She didn't say anything in answer, but the door sprung to life under Ash's hands and face. It was pulled open slowly, but it was difficult for any of them to see each other in so little light. The room was instantly brightened at Jim's thought and a white orb lit up their legs and feet. The woman's face was brighter, but held a look of someone telling ghost stories over a camp fire as the lower part of her face was white while the rest was shrouded in shadows. Her hair looked mad and unkempt, which only succeeded in her transformation to a storybook villain. There were dark bruises under eyes and the shadows stretched them too far making it look like she hadn't slept in years. Tear stained tracks also glistened down her cheeks in the light and made her look quite pathetic.

Jim and Spock stood back, letting Ash take charge. It would be better if she saw him first anyway, at least she remember him. The sight of two new people might be too much of a shock for her at the moment.

She raised the light in her hands, which Jim could finally see was a bulky torch with a wide lens and a large white bulb inside. She aimed it directly in Ash's face, forgetting the fact that the torch was blindingly bright in her haste. Ash winced but kept his hands by his sides as he didn't want to make any sudden movements to scare her. After a second, she lowered it to his chest, it still hurt his eyes a little but he forced himself to look at her and make sure he made eye contact. She stared without blinking. Making sure she raked over every detail. Her eyes swept over his dark, desperate in need of a trim, hair and followed the stubble across his face and neck. She stopped and stared at his eyes before eventually letting her shoulders drop. Ash took this as a good sign and approached her, albeit still with caution.

"It's okay. You're going to be safe now." She seemed to believe Ash's words and managed to pull herself back together, wiping at her eyes frantically like she was embarrassed by her tears.

"I thought you were them. I thought they'd finally broken in and that I was as good as dead."

Jim didn't even have to ask who 'them' was. He knew only too well who she was so frightened of. He would be lying if he said he didn't share her fears.

"We're alone, don't worry. The zombies won't be out until the sun sets."

Ash had moved himself so that he was standing directly in front of Jill. He made sure he was the only thing she could see, hoping that it would help her feel more secure. Jim and Spock stayed back; they thought it would be better if they waited until Ash deemed it safe for them to be introduced.

"Rescued? You said we were being rescued. What did you mean?"

Grinning, Ash stepped to the side, allowing Jill's gaze to land on Jim who was standing just behind him.

"They're here to help us and any other survivors we can find." He gestured towards both Jim and Spock. Jim lifted a hand sheepishly in greeting. Jill felt a smile stretching onto her lips; she couldn't remember the last time she had done it as there never seemed to be anything worthy of a smile happening, it felt foreign on her face.

The fact that no one was attacking or eating one another seemed to put Jill at ease. After the somewhat awkward introductions, she led them all into the room she had barricaded herself in just moments before.

The room looked lived in, even though it was obviously some sort of staff room. The sofa in the corner had a thin blanket draped over the back, and settled on the cushions was a pile of cans and packaged food. There was a small kitchenette in the corner next to the sofa that looked pleasantly clean compared the kitchen in the ransacked house they had visited, there were cupboards hanging above the counters that must have held a small amount of perishables in the past, such as biscuits, crisps, coffee and teabags. A desk sat against the wall opposite the sofa, a couple of drawers lined the side and there was an array of books, magazines and sheets of paper lying on the surface.

Ash walked close behind Jill, who was stumbling into the room making her way towards the sofa. She dropped on the seat with a sigh and hunched forward with her hand clasped between her knees. Ash sat unsurely next to her. Jim went and stood beside Spock near the desk after he had ducked back into the other room and carried the left over cans into the staff room. She had most likely been in the middle of moving them when they had ran up and scared her. Helping her was the least he could do.

After that, they just talked. Everyone adopted a soft tone of voice because anything louder echoed and made Jill tense uncomfortably. She explained in a shaky voice how she had boarded up the entrance as best she could. The main problem she found was that every piece of wood she came across was weathered and brittle, not something that would help made her feel safe. Jim sent Spock a significant look when he opened his mouth at this point. Spock silenced but still looked confused as to why he shouldn't tell her that they broke inside relatively easily and that her barricade wouldn't keep them safe for long. Why she wouldn't want to know the truth, he didn't know.

Jim then explained the situation to her. He assured her they were here to help, but were actually not in contact with their ship at the moment. A look of panic flitted across her face and Ash was quick to jump in and promise that it wouldn't be for long. She listened to Ash and seemed to trust him; Jim took note of that. They talked for quite a while about anything thing that appeared important or vital to their survival, and because there were no windows in the room they weren't aware of the setting sun outside. The moon quickly became visible in the darkened red and orange sky, it shined just as brightly as it always did but there was scarcely anybody to see it.

---

McCoy squinted in the dark, trying to make out the figure walking a few yards in front of him. He could hear their padding feet, but was finding it difficult placing where it came from. The moment he had tore his eyes away from the eerie hospital; Sulu had taken charge, leading them down the main streets as if he knew exactly where he was going. McCoy had been forced to follow his footsteps all day, despite the fact that he was the one that had been here before.

McCoy steeled himself from speaking up, he didn't want to get lost and end up wandering somewhere Jim had never have set foot, but he also felt that Sulu's excitement could be used to their advantage. Sulu hadn't once made a move to rest and McCoy was grateful for that. At least he thought he was, but now that the sun had set and the only light they had was coming from the moon, he was beginning to change his mind. His legs hurt and he was feeling lightheaded; the harder he tried to discern the objects around him the worse his head began to feel, though if Sulu was experiencing any of these symptoms he was hiding them pretty well.

With a grunt of effort, McCoy jogged the few feet of distance between himself and Sulu until they were level with each other. Sulu tensed and turned his head in McCoy's direction, but relaxed when he realized who it was. He didn't slow and kept marching down the road as though he already had a destination in mind.

"I think we should stop and rest for the night. There's no point searching in the dark." McCoy reasoned. "Plus, I don't like the idea of wandering around out here without being able to see where we are." He chose not to voice his concerns about what else might be ambling around outside with them, for his own sake not just Sulu's.

"If we do that then we'll never catch up with them. If we rest when they rest then we'll just keep missing them." Sulu failed to even glance at McCoy as he spoke; his eyes were glued to the road in front of him. "They already have a half-day-head-start on us, so we have got to keep moving."

McCoy felt his calm exterior chipping away. He was tired, hungry and worried, he was definitely not in the mood to argue, but he couldn't stop himself. McCoy cringed at how harsh his voice sounded, and he knew Jim would have a field day with the knowledge of how McCoy was dealing with the situation.

"This is ridiculous! We can't just walk through the night; we'll be no use to them if we're collapsing from exhaustion during the day." McCoy darted in front of Sulu, causing him to stop in his path. He held up his hands like he was trying to soften his words with a supposedly calm gesture, though it wasn't helped by the way his hands flapped to get Sulu's attention. "We need a place to stop for the night, a place that is off the main road and out of the way."

He wasn't sure what, but something was telling him to stop. The thought of searching in the dark sent such a chill through him that it filled him with dread. Sulu obviously didn't feel it; otherwise he would have stopped long ago. The only reason McCoy hadn't demanded they find somewhere to sleep earlier was because every time he thought about it he was reminded of Jim, and then he suddenly felt a surge of energy that spurred his feet on for a couple more minutes. Though, now, his feet were raw and he had had enough.

Sulu took a breath, he looked as though he was readying himself for a long winded speech, but before he could start he was interrupted by the sound of shuffling feet. Moans and groans echoed down the street towards where McCoy and Sulu were standing, and whoever was making them were getting closer every second.

It was the first time that Sulu seemed to understand the danger they were in; his eyes widened at the noise and McCoy took that opportunity to grab his elbow and pull him towards a narrow alleyway between two small, rundown buildings. As soon as they disappeared into the gap, McCoy spotted movement at the end of the street they had just been standing on. He hoped they were more inconspicuous than he felt, as the alleyway wasn't very big and they were forced to stand one behind the other. McCoy could feel Sulu's breath on the back of his neck as they stood squished together.

The slight movement he had spotted very quickly turned into something more noticeable. Sulu gasped when he saw what McCoy was staring at, but he quieted down when McCoy dug his elbow into his stomach. Moving along the middle of the road was a large group of around thirty or forty figures. They moved without picking up their feet, groaning under their breath, and stumbling into one another. McCoy knew he had made the right decision of hiding when the figures traveled in their direction. The one closest to the alleyway was drenched in dried blood; the bottom half of his leg was missing the skin and the thing's arm had been clean ripped off from elbow downwards. The smell of rotting flesh and the bitter tang of blood was unmistakable.

McCoy's heart pounded in his chest, he remembered the feeling of having his heart trying to rip itself out of his body from the hospital, but this time it was worse. Instead of one thing, there were forty things to worry about. Instinctively, McCoy stepped back, not thinking that Sulu was standing so close behind him, all he thought about was getting as far away as possible from the things in the middle of the road. Sulu backed up a couple of steps, allowing McCoy to hide himself better in the darkness.

Both McCoy and Sulu watched the group move past them, all the while trying to stem their rapid breathing and pulsing hearts. They staggered along in the same direction, heading the way Sulu had been leading them. It didn't look if any communication passed between them, yet they all seemed to know where to go. They had a destination in mind, McCoy was sure of it.

He risked a glance at Sulu, who was still watching the things with interest. Though, it was no longer with excitement, it was more of a morbid curiosity now. McCoy was glad that Sulu had returned to reality, it was about time.

A strange thought crossed McCoy's mind. Did these things really have any sense of direction? Or were they following something? They were obviously the reason why this planet was so devoid of life, but how did they do it? Could they somehow sense the living? Were they being drawn to survivors right now? If so, then why were they being ignored? McCoy thought of Jim. Were they the ones who were being hunted by this group dead set of a certain direction?

As soon as the group was out of sight over the horizon of the street, McCoy scrambled out of the hiding place. When he turned back to Sulu, he was surprised by how well the spur of the moment idea had worked; he could barely made out the shape of a person in the alleyway, even Sulu's gold colored shirt blended in enough to be virtually invisible.

"We should follow them." McCoy whispered loudly.

"What? Are you crazy? We should backtrack the other way." Sulu whispered back, still not leaving the confines of the alleyway where he felt safe.

"I think they're going to lead us straight to Jim if we follow them."

"What makes you think that?" Sulu poked his head out, letting the moon light hit his face and allowing McCoy to see expression of confusion. In truth, McCoy wasn't sure why he thought that. Maybe it was the desperation, maybe it was nothing more than a fleeting feeling, but he just knew it was what they needed to do. He just needed to convince Sulu.

"Did you not see them? They were heading somewhere, and I'd recognize the look of determination anywhere. Only Jim can instill that look. My guess is that he did something to piss them off and they're on their way to find him." Sulu stepped into the faint light and his body went from black and white to black and gold.

"What? No…that's…it's not…," Sulu started with an air of disbelief. "Actually, that sort of makes sense," he finished reluctantly.

"Exactly. Now quickly, before we lose them."

They didn't run as they knew that the sound of their feet hitting the pavement would carry in the near silent night. They jogged down the road, but really they might have well of walked because they met the group again after a few seconds. They hadn't made it very far on their shuffling feet. McCoy, who had been jogged slightly faster than Sulu, flung out his arm, hitting Sulu square in the chest to stop him from unwittingly bumping right into him. They stayed like this for quite a while, just far enough away so that the things hadn't noticed their presence, but still able to see which way they went. McCoy knew then that it would be slow and boring work following these things that advanced at a crawl, but hopefully in the end it would be worth it.

---

After talking for what felt like day, though was in reality only an hour or two, they decided that they should get some rest. They would need to up at sunrise the next day in order to procure as much time as possible to search for more survivors, which Jim was now certain existed.

Jill got up and locked the staff room door from the inside. Jim wondered for a second why a staff room would need a lock, but quickly gave up on it; it didn't really matter, he should just thank the good fortune. Ash then became a gentleman, and convinced Jill to take the sofa while they would take the floor. She refused for a good five minutes until Ash made a show of curling up on the floor in front of the sofa. Jim watched as she smiled softly and reached for the blanket hung over the back. It was bigger than it looked. She held the edges and flapped her arms in the air, the blanket tripled in size and she threw it over her legs. It was so big that not only did it cover her, but it also trailed off the cushions and covered most of Ash's body on the floor. Ash laughed but didn't remove the blanket.

"Captain, I am not in dire need of a rest, and I think it would be best if someone stayed awake to keep watch, just in case." Spock's voice made Jim turn his head from the scene on the sofa, which he was glad for because he was having trouble looking away by himself for some reason.

"That's not necessary Spock. I think we're quite safe; she's been here for a while. Just get some rest."

"I do not think I will be able to, Captain."

"Well try."

Spock nodded and retreated back to the wall behind him. He sat with his back flush against it and his knees pulled up to his chest. He didn't look vulnerable just simply bored, like he knew he would be sitting in the dark for many hours. Jim did the same, but kept his back against the wall next to the door. If anyone came in, hopefully he would here it first. The baseball bat he had brought from the supermarket lay at his side, just within reach. Spock was in a similar position on the other side of the room. Ash had left his cricket bat leaning near the kitchen when he had investigated the shelves and cupboards, he wouldn't be able to reach from where he rested even if he stretched.

Jill was hugging the torch as she lay on the sofa, Jim guessed it was something she regularly did judging by the practiced way she folded her body around it, and with one final look around the room she pushed the button on the handle.

The image was burned in Jim's eyes and he was sure he could still see everything perfectly, but the entire room was now pitch-black. He held his hand in front of his face and could see nothing but black, even though he knew it was mere centimeters from his nose. The movement also failed to register in his eyes and that worried Jim the most. The idea of sitting in the dark with no way of knowing what was moving around him frightened him. He dropped his hand onto the cool metal of the baseball bat to help him feel more in control.

He wasn't sure how long he had been sitting there, with his head resting back on the wall and his eyes closed. It might have only been a few minutes, or he might have dozed off and slept for a couple of hours, he had no idea. Sitting in this dark meant that closing his eyes made no difference as it was just as dark with his eyes open. He was finding it difficult interpreting between the two. All that he could hear was slow rhythmic breathing and he couldn't tell where it was coming from.

In his rendition of the night, he jumped at every little sound he heard, but really everything was quiet. Besides the breathing, he didn't hear a single noise.

Jim started counting in his head. When a second passed he counted it. It was like a version of counting sheep, but it didn't seem to be putting him to sleep. He got to four minutes and thirty-two seconds when he heard a noise. It sounded like glass breaking. He was on his feet, bat in hand, with his ear pressed against the door in four seconds. Another noise sounded, and though it was muffled through the door, he recognized it as glass cracking under weight.

Jim turned back to the room, but it was still dark and empty. For a moment, he began to think that maybe he had imagined the noises, until he heard a shrill screech that could not have been imagined. The room suddenly filled with light. Jim thought the electricity had come back on, but then he noticed the torch in Jill's trembling hands. She was sitting up on the sofa, with the blanket pooling around her legs. The light and her movement had stirred Ash as well and he was in the midst of climbing to his feet already. Jim turned back to the door, and was surprised to see Spock standing right next to him; Jim hadn't even seen him move. They both had their baseball bats in their hands, and looked as ready as they'd ever be.

He unlocked and pulled open the door in one smooth motion. The room on the other side was just as they had left it. The door to the corridor was wide open and the little light from it poured into the room. They stepped swiftly and surely, Jim wasn't sure whether Ash was following them or not, but he didn't let the thought slow him down. Jim went first with the bat held by his side. He moved into the corridor and followed it down until he reached the shops and the dead escalators. The noises were louder now. He could hear the groans and screams of the zombies and realized that there must be more than one in the building.

Jim approached the railing that overlooked the lower floor. He had to lean over the edge and angle his head to the side to see the area where they had broke in. He spotted the shoddily boarded up door straight away, but it wasn't just them that had used the structures weak point to their advantage. There were a handful of zombies already in the building and there were several more trying to squeeze through the narrow doorway at the same time. As Jim watched they poured through the one door, slowly beginning to fill up the room, the stream didn't appear to be slowing and more and more kept spilling through.

Ash emerged into his view and followed his gaze down to the situation at the doors. They all turned to each other, and then Ash broke out in to a run, retreating back to the staff room where he must have left Jill. It might have looked like he was running back to get the cricket bat he had left with her, but Jim knew better. Jim felt the same instinctual feeling to run, but he didn't. He started out over at the zombies slowly making their way towards them and muttered under his breath.

"Oh shit."

---

Sulu ducked into another alleyway, hastily tugging McCoy in after him. Their predictions had been right and following the group was uneventful and tedious. They would have to hide and wait for the group to reach the next road before they could catch up and hide once more. The mindless walking meant that they often, without much thought, wandered too close and had to dive quickly into hiding lest they give themselves away.

It wasn't long until McCoy started to doubt himself. They didn't seem to be getting anywhere, and he was sure they had passed the same building several times now. Sulu was about to agree, when they stepped around the corner of the street and came into an area they had never seen before. Both men froze as they stared out over at the sea of bodies in front of them. They didn't bother to back away and hide like they were so use to, because it was obvious that they were the least of the group's worries now.

McCoy gripped the communicator on his belt so fiercely that he thought he heard it crack in his hand. The fear he had felt when he first witnessed the group earlier was nothing compared to how he felt at this moment in time. He tried counting the heads he could see, but they were shifting and twitching so much that it was difficult to tell. One thing he knew for sure though was that there were definitely more than forty figures in front of them.

Past the sea, over the heads and off in the distance, McCoy could make out a large building with covered windows and doors. Jim had to be in there, it was the only explanation. McCoy was certain. All he needed to do was figure out a way to get in there and find him. McCoy paled when his gaze swapped from the doors to the crowd surrounding them. He didn't have a clue where to start.

The group they had followed behind had seamlessly morphed into the larger one and neither McCoy nor Sulu recognized any of the rotting bodies. They stood only a handful of meters away from them, but McCoy knew they would need to get closer in order to find a way inside; it would just be difficult to set a path that wasn't blocked by these monsters.

McCoy circled anti-clockwise around the group as it was the least crowded path he could see. Nevertheless, it wasn't empty, so he still had to pass relatively close to flesh eating beings. Sulu hobbled after him, regrettably moving closer to the things he wanted nothing more than to run from; and he would have if he had not wanted to be left alone.

Fortunately, everything seemed to be going well. Whatever was in the building, whether it was Jim or not he didn't know, but it had thoroughly captivated the attention of the group. The bodies pulsed and writhed in eager anticipation and apparent excitement, eyes fixed solely on the smashed door they were trying to squeeze through. At the speed they were going, it would take a long time for them all to get in, especially considering how often they pushed and turned on each other in the process. McCoy grimaced when he stepped over a prone, twice lifeless body. Most of its head and face had been ripped off and although there was no blood, it was still covered in red stuff which could only have been muscle poking through. McCoy patted Sulu's arm, directing his attention to it in case he hadn't noticed. He didn't need Sulu's shrieks to grab the attention of their passing audience.

McCoy's arms actually flailed when a shrill chirping noise shattered the silence they were trying to achieve. He knew what it was straight away and cursed himself for own stupidity. Several glassy-eyed stares turned to face them and the noise continued to act as an alarm that was the equivalent of a giant flashing neon arrow announcing 'Fresh meat, for all those who want it'. Even with two pairs of hands smothering it, the communicator beeped and whistled loud enough to draw a crowd, and McCoy and Sulu found themselves surrounded.

Being at a loss of what to do, McCoy unclipped the communicator from his belt and answered it. The piercing noise stopped instantly and Scotty's voice took over. McCoy maneuvered himself so that he was back-to-back with Sulu, this way they could see everything that was advancing towards them.

"I should warn you two that the scans have picked up a large group standing near where you are. I'd try to avoid them if I was you."

"Well, you're a bit late and I think they have already noticed us."

McCoy laughed humorlessly into the communicator before snapping it shut and shoving it back onto his belt. As soon as he did that and returned his attention to the things surrounding them, one of them lunged. It grabbed onto Sulu's sleeve and dragged itself forward with the momentum, separating itself from the others in the crowd. Sulu justifiably panicked and ripped his arm away from the snarling thing, tearing his shirt as he did so. Another weight landed on his other arm and he was ready to punch whatever it was when he turned his head to see it was only McCoy. He was pointing towards a gap in the crowd and was gesturing wildly towards it. With little consideration he nodded and pushed his way through it, stopping only once to punch something in the face for catching the tattered remains of his sleeve.

They ran towards an area behind the huge row of buildings that made up the shopping centre. There was one small window, high up on the wall furthest from them, that wasn't boarded up. The glass was patterned and impossible to see through; McCoy guessed it was a bathroom. If they could get high enough to smash the glass, then it would be feasible for them to climb inside. It would be a tight squeeze but doable, nonetheless.

Their feet thundered across the pavement, neither one caring about the noise they made. McCoy didn't dare check to see if they were being followed as he set about wheeling a large dumpster closer to the window. Sulu helped once he realized what was happening. He had been watching the path they had made, counting the figures that were now stumbling down it towards the dead end they were now in.

Once the dumpster was in position they climbed up on top of it; the window was now level with McCoy's chest. He pushed the glass, testing its strength, but unsurprisingly it didn't budge.

"What are you waiting for? Hurry up!" Sulu watched as the bodies started spilled into the alcove they had pushed the dumpster into. Panic flooded his body and pumped through his veins.

"Punching a window isn't as easy as it looks, okay." McCoy tore a strip off the bottom of his shirt, while glancing between the window and their steadily approaching enemies. He wound the strip around his hand and formed a fist, nodding at how the material stretched tighter over his knuckles. "I'm not getting this far, only to slit my wrist on a stray bit of glass."

Sulu kicked at the arms and faces peering over the top of the dumpster, luckily they had the advantage of height. McCoy spared him a look before shielding his face with his arm and punching the window with his bound hand. He felt it shatter more than he heard it, and when he looked he grinned to see he had knocked most of the glass out of the pane. His hand stung and he was sure a shard had ricocheted and hit him in the face as there was a patch on his cheek which felt wet. He didn't care about that though and he shouted to Sulu tell him it was done; he was a bit preoccupied at the moment by keeping the grasping hands at bay.

McCoy turned back to the window, noticing that it was smaller than he had realized at a distance. He should be able to fit, but it would be difficult. Plus, he didn't know where he would be landing or what he would be landing on. He had guessed it was bathroom, but he didn't know for sure, it was too dark inside to make any real assumptions.

Stomping down on his worries, McCoy lifted a leg over into the window and tried to sit on the thin ledge outside it. He couldn't feel the floor, but he didn't really expect to, he just hoped it was there somewhere. While Sulu kicked extra hard at a face that had bared its teeth at him, McCoy swung his other leg over into the room, so that he was fully perched on the ledge and he was holding himself up by the top pane of the window. With one last deep breath, McCoy dropped himself through the window. He winced when a leftover shard caught his back on the way down, but he hit the ground on surprisingly steady feet.

"Sulu, come on!"

McCoy cupped his hands around his mouth and hollered at Sulu, hoping that he could hear him over the groaning and snarling. His eyes were drawn to the strip still wrapped around his hand. There was a red gouge in the blue material that was seeping blood, so he thought it would be best to leave the homemade bandage on. He also wiped his hand across his cheek which confirmed his suspicions when it came back bloody as well. He managed to wipe most of it away before Sulu dropped to floor next to him, landing less steadily than McCoy, but was also less covered in scratches.

They both sighed in relief and hoped that the things were less skilled at climbing now that their limbs were deadened and weak. McCoy eventually looked around the room they had landed in, noticing he had been right and that it was a bathroom, the woman's bathroom judging by the softer colors

A chilling scream from outside the window reminded them that it was no time to rest. McCoy raced towards the door and pulled it open. The area on the other side was larger but much darker and slightly overwhelming. McCoy shook his head and told himself that Jim was here, somewhere. His bleeding, bandaged hand found the communicator on his belt and he stepped into the darkness, praying that he would find Jim before something else did.


	7. Chapter 7

Part 7

Ash's footsteps echoed in Jim's ears as he scanned the floor below him. They were fast and frantic, moving towards their area of solitude where Jill was waiting, most likely scared out of her wits. Jim couldn't stop the swear words spilling from his lips, they rolled off fluently and without pause, and his hand tightened around the railing that separated him from the zombies underneath.

Slowly, they ambled in every direction. Jim didn't know how they knew they were here as this place, according to Jill, had been relatively ignored in the past. Judging by the sheer number of bodies and their sudden synchronized arrival, something had tipped them off about their whereabouts. Yet, their information must have been pretty vague as they didn't seem to have a set direction in mind. A large group followed the path they have recently taken, while the others wandered off to different parts of the shopping centre. Very soon, the entire bottom floor would be packed and they would be trapped.

Jim reluctantly turned his back on the growing armies downstairs and faced the hallway that lead to the staff room. He could see both Ash and Jill standing at the very end. They appeared to be arguing, as Jim could see the rapidly gesturing arms and wild looks. Ash had his hands clasped onto Jill's shoulders, and although she kept trying to twist out of his grasp, he was holding steady and made sure that she was looking at him and not in Jim's direction. Strangely, their voices didn't carry so Jim couldn't hear exactly what they were saying, but he had a pretty good idea regardless. Ash must have been talking in hushed tones to try and keep Jill calm.

After a moment of struggling, Ash seemed to win out. Jill stopped thrashing and stared at the floor, shoulders dropping in acceptance. Jim watched as Ash lifted her face and spoke slowly and surely, before turning her body around and pushing her towards the staff room. He followed her and came back a few seconds later with his cricket bat in hand and a look of determination on his face. It reminded Jim of the expression Ash had been wearing when they had first met him. By the look of it, Ash was ready to beat down some zombies. Sadly, Jim couldn't say the say about himself.

A tap on his hand, still wrapped around the railing, caught his attention. Jim looked around, startled at the touch, to find Spock's hand resting near his and tapping a rhythm on his fingers. Confused, Jim looked up at Spock and followed his gaze down towards to the advancing mob. He had almost forgotten the situation they were in. Jim would have smacked a hand to his forehead if things were a little bit less serious.

During the absence of Jim's attention, the zombies had grown exponentially in numbers. There was barely a patch of tiles that didn't have feet shuffling over it. Their combined noise and smell was enough to make Jim stagger back a few steps. All his senses felt like they had just been violated. They were also moving quicker than Jim had given them credit for. Already, they were climbing the motionless escalators and getting closer all the while. Panic flooded his body, and although it was pulsing in his veins telling him to start moving and do something, he couldn't seem to get his feet to comply.

"Jill's in the staff room. I told her not to open the door unless it's for us."

Ash had returned and was standing to Jim's immediate right, while Spock was still waiting on his other side. Ash stared at the sea of heads and then back Jim, as if he was waiting for some sort of command, like Jim was going to issue a battle cry and then they would run into war. Jim couldn't. He wasn't sure what to do. It was three against hundreds. They might have the advantage of higher ground but that wouldn't be for long. There were already a handful on their floor and only meters away.

Unsurprisingly, Ash was the first one to act. He must have seen the hesitation in Jim. He hopped on his toes like a boxer warming up for a fight, took a deep breath, and then moved around Jim and Spock. The closest zombies were less than five meters away now and he wasted no time in taking it down. He swung the bat with as much force as he could muster and it caught the zombie on what remained of its jaw. The malnourished bones cracked and splintered and Jim could say for certain that it was the most disturbing thing he had ever heard. The zombie was knocked off its feet and was propelled into the railing; which was only just over waist height so when it hit it, the force sent it toppling over the edge. It plummeted the short distance and took out a few more zombies with its impact with the ground. Ash grinned and moved on to the next closest one.

Jim was shocked and a little repulsed by Ash's apparent joy. The noise that had sickened him, seemed to be some sort of reward to Ash, it fueled his actions and caused him to swing a bit harder next time. Jim lifted the baseball bat in his hands with trepidation. The cricket bat was heavier, he told himself. The baseball bat shouldn't make as much noise. Or at least, that's what he hoped.

Jim patted Spock's back as he stepped past him and went to join Ash. The number of zombies that managed to climb the escalator was increasing, and they were steadily filling the upper floor as well. Jim didn't know if it was as packed in other parts of the shopping centre, but something told him that they knew where they were now and would be closing in on them.

The first time Jim swung the baseball bat, it hit the offending zombie in the neck. The bones holding the things head up shattered and the head lolled limply on its shoulders. It didn't slow the thing down at all. He swung again, this time over head. Even with his eyes clenched shut; he knew he had met his target. It was like a paper cut, he could feel the bat move through the zombies head. When he opened his eyes again, the zombie had crumpled to the floor, its skull in pieces, some scattered on the floor, some hanging off the bat. He tried to breathe in, but found he couldn't. His chest felt tight and cold. His hands were hot and clammy.

Another zombie stepped over the corpse of the other one and lunged at Jim, scaring the breath back into his lungs. Instead of not being able to take a breath, he was now taking too many and he felt dizzy and light.

Spock joined them and was knocking down zombies almost as proficiently as Ash. The sickening sounds and jolts to his hands didn't seem to faze him at all. Jim didn't know whether to feel jealous or proud of the fact that it affected him so much.

Jim thought things were going well. The bodies piled up on the ground around them, and other zombies were beginning to have trouble getting closer to them because of it. They had defended themselves moderately well so far, Jim thought. Not one zombie had gotten close enough to attack them yet; one of them would jump in and beat the zombie to the ground before it got the chance. They looked after each others backs and made sure everyone was safe. Jim held a faint thread of hope. If it carried on like this then they might survive this. The thought of an entire world having succumbed to the zombies, and what chance would four people have of surviving, didn't even cross his mind.

It didn't cross his mind until he spotted the zombies approaching from behind them. The top floor looped around the edge and some of the zombies have taken up the fact to their advantage. Jim backed towards the hallway leading to Jill, shouting and alerting Spock and Ash about the others surrounding them. Spock turned and saw the group forming around them, choosing to follow Jim's lead of retreating back down the hallway. Ash, on the other hand, either hadn't heard him or was choosing not to. He pitched the bat at another zombie, this time aiming for its feet. It was swept off its feet, just like Jim had been when Ash had done that to him, but it didn't stop it, it just climbed back to its feet while Ash attacker another. It was like Ash was just toying with them, if he wasn't hitting to kill, then he was just hitting for his own enjoyment.

The top floor was swiftly becoming just as crowded as the bottom floor, and if they didn't act soon, Ash would be surrounded. Spock seemed to understand as well and he stepped back towards them again.

Zombies had closed off the gap Jim and Spock had used to get into the hallway, and had formed a circle around Ash. Jim hoped Ash was doing more than playing with them now, because if he wasn't fighting now he would be dead. With the zombies focusing on Ash, they had their back to the hallway, and removing most of them out of the way was unusually easy.

Eventually, Jim and Spock and make a path to the centre of the circle. They made it just in time to see Ash get completely surrounded. One hung off his arm and stopped him from lifting the bat, another lay on the floor and clung to his trousers, while another crept up behind him and latched onto his shoulder with its teeth.

Jim had to reevaluate his earlier thoughts when he heard Ash yell. It wasn't just pain, it was anguish and anger, frustration and annoyance all rolled into one. It was officially the worse thing Jim had ever heard.

Instinctively, Jim rushed forward. He ran and crashed into the zombie tearing the flesh off Ash's shoulder. A spray of blood hit Jim in the side of the face as he tackled the zombie to the ground. The coppery smell was strikingly obtrusive over the stench of rotting flesh and it caused Jim's stomach to turn over uncomfortably. When they both hit the floor with a crash, the thing turned its attention to Jim instead. Its teeth snapped and reached for any part of Jim's skin it could get close to, while Jim was trying to wrestle his way out of the zombies grasp and back on to his feet.

With blood dribbling down his body and two zombies hanging off his person, Ash seemed to explode with emotions and un-vented rage. Just like the life-sustaining-liquid coursing out of the fresh wound in his shoulder, the feelings of determination and purpose just couldn't be contained. A harsh kick sent the zombie at his feet rolling a few paces away, and a whole bodily forced swing of a fist made sure that the other zombie attached to his arm had to stagger backwards.

Jim, meanwhile, was still struggling with the zombie he had tackled. He had managed to straddle the thing with the baseball bat pushed into its neck to keep it at bay, but every time he tried to move away, it would move with him. Its long fingered hands were digging into the arms holding the bat in place and scratching deep gouges into the flesh. Jim had no choice but to stay where he was and hold the bat firm while the zombie thrashed beneath him.

Ash's head swam as he attempted to get his bearings back. He felt a little unsteady on his feet and his limbs were aching from holding himself up. He looked wildly around, only barely registering the crowd around him. A vaguely human-shaped blur sort of lumbered closer, its arms outstretched. Before it could get close enough to touch him another blur darted into view knocking the first blur back into the crowd. A spark of recognition went through Ash's brain and he remembered where he was and who was trying to keep the area around them relatively zombie free. Spock struck out again when another zombie made to grab Ash in his confused state.

A sharp pain shot through Ash's neck; it felt like someone had just poured boiling water onto his shoulder and it was streaming down his back leaving a trail of scorched skin in its wake. He prodded the epicenter of the pain, and was sure he passed out for a second. It flashed white and then suddenly, when his vision returned, everything was crystal clear. He pulled his hand back from his shoulder and marveled at the stained skin on his palm. It was then that he spotted Jim on the floor.

Ash reached over and tightened his fist in Jim shirt and pulled him back with more strength than he thought he had left. Jim yelped when he was lifted to feet by a hand he hadn't realized was so close. The baseball came with him, but he was dragged so quickly that the zombie had no chance of getting a bite in by the time Ash swooped in and slammed the cricket bat into its face. Jim didn't even glance at the mess that exploded over the tiles, and instead dragged Ash back, who had jumped right into defending them again.

"We had to get back to the staff room." Ash struggled in Jim's arms, and Jim had to completely encase him and hold him still. "If we stay here, it's suicide."

Jim had to force out the word suicide because he suddenly remembered McCoy's words in his office before he left. McCoy had been right. This was a suicide attempt and it was all Jim's fault that Ash was currently bleeding through his shirt and onto Jim. And if they didn't do something soon, they would all be dead.

Jim tightened his grip on Ash when he tried to shake himself free. Ash managed to snake out a limb and nearly knocked Jim out when he flung it into his face.

"Enough!" Jim bellowed. "Spock, help me get him back to the staff room!"

Spock abandoned his efforts off trying to get rid of every zombie in the vicinity, there were simply too many of them now. He took the struggling Ash from Jim's arms, and was doing a better job at restraining him with one arm than Jim had done with two. Jim quickly stooped down to retrieve the baseball bat he had dropped when he grabbed Ash. He spotted the cricket bat lying not far from it. Still, Jim chose to keep the baseball bat, something told him that the cricket bat wasn't as lucky as Ash had believed it to be.

He rejoined Spock, flanking the side that he was holding Ash to him, and tried to see over the heads surrounding them; he had to orientate himself in order to find the direction of the hallway. He panicked for a second when he thought he couldn't see it, and then with a wave of relief he spotted the darkened roof that stretched down into the hallway. The direction that they needed to go was thankfully only blocked by a small amount of zombies. With both Jim and Spock pushing their way through, they made it back to the hallway with surprising ease.

The zombies followed, trailing after the flesh they so very wanted to feast upon. They bumped into each other and the whole group tried to turn on the spot and grab the retreating bodies. The fact that there were now so many of them played to Jim's advantage. They had forced themselves into an area that wasn't that big to begin with and were now trying to following them down an even smaller hallway, but it wasn't really working. Jim and Spock managed to drag Ash most of the way down the hallway before the zombies had spilled after them. A trail of blood leading to them seemed to be enticing the zombies and kept them on their path.

Jim banged on the staff room door with the palm of his hand, silently praying to god that it would be loud enough to alert Jill.

"It's us! Open the door!"

There was a sound of something being dragged on the other side of the door. The door rattled and he could hear Jill mumbling incomprehensibly under her breath. Jim glanced at the door leading to the hallway, seeing that it was still empty; and when he turned back to the door it swung open and Jill's hands reached out and grabbed the arm that was holding Ash on his feet. She didn't say anything, but panic was evident in her eyes; she helped Spock drag Ash, who had gone basically limp now, into the room. As Jim hurried through the door and went to go shut it again, he glimpsed a hand reaching around the door to the hallway. They were coming. Jim slammed the door shut with more force than was necessary, and cursed quietly to himself once more.

He checked twice that he had correctly locked the door. Just to the side of the door, the desk had been hastily pushed aside. Jim grabbed the corner and pulled it back in front of the door; it didn't expect it hold if at all, but it created a false sense of security which was all that mattered.

Returning his attention to the situation inside the room, Jim dashed towards the sofa where Ash was sitting hunched over. Jill sat next to him, her hands nearly a blur as she fussed over him. Spock was rummaging through a drawer in the kitchen with his back to the rest of them. Jim dropped to his knees in front of the sofa, reaching forward to tilt Ash head attentively to the side. What was left of the skin on his shoulder glistened from the shine of the torch that Jill was now aiming in his direction. There wasn't much Jim could do, it was still oozing blood and was too big to cauterize, which was admittedly quite a drastic measure. Spock joined them and held out a large, clean dish towel. Jim took it with a nod, folded it and gingerly placed it over the wound. A feeling of déjà vu washed over Jim, and he hoped that Ash would have a better outcome than Williams had, but with McCoy not being here, there was very little chance of that happening.

Jill leaned across and continued her fussing by removing Jim's hand and replacing it with her own. She lifted her towel, wincing at the amount of blood that already soaked through, and swapped hands wiping the excess blood off onto her thigh. She muttered reassurances as she worked and Jim tried to ignore them. The glazed look in Ash's eyes probably meant that he also wasn't really listening to her.

Jim could sense Spock's eyes on him as he looked Ash over, making sure that there weren't anymore serious cuts or wounds. After that he couldn't stall any longer. He stood back up and walked towards the door, Spock followed as quickly as possible. It looked as though they were just reinforcing the door, checking that it would hold for an indefinite amount of time; but really Spock had just wanted to draw Jim away to say the thing that Jim was dreading. When Spock talked, it was quiet and steady, as though it was easy to say, but Jim was having trouble just listening to it let alone saying it.

"The logical thing to do would be to kill him. He will eventually turn into one of them. We can not deny that."

"I know!" Jill looked, startled, in their direction. Jim tried to calm himself down, but couldn't find anything to help him, all his thoughts just led to more desperation. "I know that, I do. It's just, he isn't one yet. We can't kill him." Spock looked as skeptical as he could, but Jim just shrugged it off. "I'm not clinging to false hope, alright, I know he's gone. He just hasn't gone yet and I'm not being the one to speed up the process, okay?"

Spock nodded. Jim tried to swallow down the lump in his throat. They both pushed at the desk even though it was already as close to the door as it could get, but neither man really paid attention.

Ash grunted in pain, and Jim heard Jill whisper an apology in a meek voice. Ash looked deathly pale in the eerily lit room. Jill had placed the torch on her lap as she tended to his shoulder, and its white bulb had made Ash's bloodless skin turn almost colorless. He bared a striking resemblance to the creatures locked out on the other side of the door, but so far he hadn't made any attempts of nipping at Jill's arm which was teasingly close to his face, so that was a good sign. His eyes held a brightness that had been missing just moments before and he seemed more alert and aware of his surroundings, which was also good.

Despite this, Jim didn't allow himself to build up hope. He still remembered what Ash had said to them when they first met, 'One bite from those things and you're infected as well.' Ash had been bitten. It was as simple as that. No amount of spin on the situation can change that. It was over for Ash. But it wasn't over for the rest of them. He couldn't let himself get bogged down by this unfortunate turn of events, he still had a survivor to rescue.

The baseball bat was lying on the floor near where Jim had stooped to get a better look at Ash's shoulder. He went to go retrieve it, but shuddered when he got that all too familiar sensation of someone's eyes following his every move. His neck felt too exposed as he bent to grasp the metal, and when righted himself he met Ash's glare. His eyes were glazed again and fixed firmly on Jim. Jim quickly stepped back and clutched the bat tightly at his side.

After he removed himself from Ash's personal space, his eyes seemed to spark again and he just looked in pain. Something told Jim that they would have to think of a plan very swiftly. The door was holding so far, and Jim could barely hear their rasps and screeches, but it wouldn't do them much good if they were also trapped with one on the other side.

---

"Captain!"

The noise and its echo, even though he was expecting it, made McCoy jump. He ran his bandaged hand over his cheek in a routine he had done many times since they had started searching through this supposed abandoned shopping centre. With the blood from his hand and the blood from his still bleeding face, the blue material was steadily turning a murky reddish brown colour. The adrenaline from their, undoubtedly stupid, yet courageous, entrance had long since warn off; McCoy was left with a shaky feeling of paranoia and jumped at every sound, even if he was the one making it.

Sulu was marching a few shop lengths ahead of him, randomly shouting at the top of his lungs. The ear shattering voice cutting through the silence didn't seem to bother him as much as it did McCoy, and he repeated the action every now and then, hoping for a reply each time but never getting one.

From what McCoy could gather, the shopping centre was empty. They had yet to come across anything that gave them any reason to believe that someone was trying to survive in here. Though gutted at the thought, McCoy was beginning to convince himself that this was hopeless cause.

"Captain!"

McCoy froze. Rubbed subconsciously at his cheek. Regained his train of thought. Then continued following Sulu.

He spotted a closed book shop and stopped right outside of it. The familiar black bars kept him from getting too close, but the moon light filtered through the large windows near the roof and shone directly at the shops front window. Bookcases lined the wall with barely a gap between each novel on the shelves. Tables sat at odd intervals around the room and had handfuls of book haphazardly placed on the surfaces. He was too far away to read any of the titles so he just settled on looking at the covers of the paperback books.

Despite the grime that built up on the window after the amount of time it had been left unopened, McCoy could still see his reflection in it. He looked terrible. His shirt was ripped and ruined leaving parts of his stomach on show, and that was just the front. McCoy knew he had slashed open his back on the glass when he had dropped into the bathroom and he could only imagine what his back looked like. It stung with every step he took so he guessed it wasn't pretty. Dark shadows covered one side of his face and some dipped down on to throat. He must have looked quite gruesome with blood stains covering most of his body. From appearances alone, he could probably pass as one of those monsters.

It was no wonder they hadn't came across anyone here. With Sulu's shouting and McCoy's appearance, any survivors were most likely taking their chances on their own. Looking at his reflection he had to admit, he didn't look very approachable.

"Captain!"

McCoy watched himself jump. His eyes when wide and he stared straight ahead. Behind his eyes, many different scenarios ran through his head; the most vivid one had zombies suddenly spilling out of every shadowed area of this shopping centre. In his head, they were both surrounded in seconds and there was nothing he could do. The world behind eyes was suddenly filled with stark red images and chilling screams.

Then it was gone. He was back staring at the bland colourless reflection. There were no zombies surrounding them and McCoy was safe for the time being. But, try as he might, he couldn't shake the helpless feeling he had when he those things were so close to him.

"Sulu, that's enough. I don't think there's anyone here."

McCoy could have kicked himself. Seconds after he spoke, they heard a groan. They knew exactly what that meant; then sure enough, like clockwork, a figure stumbled around the corner, arms simply being used as paper weights and definitely not for balance. Another followed shortly after, then another and another. Soon, there were at least ten of them moving towards the pair.

Being the first one to jump into action, Sulu jogged back to where McCoy had stopped and grabbed him by the arm. McCoy didn't notice straight away, as he had his eyes fixed of the approaching group, but when Sulu started to shake his arm he let himself be dragged towards the stairs they had just passed.

They climbed the steps as quickly as they could and took off around the second floor of the shopping centre. They got further around than they would have on the lower floor, but it wasn't long until they came across another obstacle. The group, this time, was more than twice as big as the one that run into downstairs. McCoy and Sulu stopped and ducked into a large alcove to get their breath back.

Adrenaline had abandoned McCoy yet again. He had all the disadvantages; ragged breathing, a racing mind and a rapid heartbeat but none of the crazy ideas or a sense of indestructibility that usually accompanied it. He had no idea of what to do and he was slowly getting surrounded. That was when he heard it. That was when he heard the one thing that could clear his head and fill it with plans of escape and made him feel invincible. He heard Jim's voice echo over all the groaning and shuffling feet.

The first thing they heard was a scream of anguish, which did nothing but push McCoy further into his spiral of defeat, but then the hazy overcast cleared and sun poked through the figurative spell that had been cast over him when Jim's voice sounded over everything else.

"Enough! Spock, help me get him back to the staff room!"

Jim was still alive. He was alive and just around the corner. McCoy couldn't stop the relieved grin that spread over his face. He quickly stopped though, when he felt the gash on his cheek strain and split open further. He turned to Sulu to see if he shared his feeling of euphoria and managed to catch him in the act of readying himself to shout out again. McCoy reached over and clapped a hand around Sulu's mouth, cutting off his deep intake of breath.

"Shhh, we don't want everyone knowing where we are." He waited until Sulu nodded behind his hand, before he removed it, nodding back.

McCoy turned back to the direction Jim's voice came from. He poked his head out of the alcove as far as he dared and tried to gauge how far away Jim must have been The wall of zombies that separate them could be two bodies thick or twenty bodies thick, there was no way of knowing lest he run full pelt into the midst of them, which was never going to happen.

The odd feeling of calm that washed over him, thanks to Jim's voice, made plans form in head without much probing. He stared at the group and clamped a hand onto the communicator. He unclipped it and tested the weight of it by bouncing his hand up and down. He nodded to himself and turned back to Sulu once more, his plan now straightened out in his mind. He pushed the communicator in Sulu's hand and closed his fingers around it for him, making sure that Sulu kept a hold on it.

"Run straight for the door. I'm going to distract them and get them out of the way for you." Straight away, Sulu shook his head frantically.

"No, no, no. I don't think so." He pushed the communicator back at McCoy, but neither of them seemed to want to hold it in their hands for more than a few seconds. "You're the doctor. You're the important one; they're going to need you more than they need me."

Since no one could keep hold of the communicator, Sulu, when it was his turn to push it away, threw it forcibly at McCoy's chest. He knew that McCoy would scramble to catch and that would give him the few precious seconds he needed to get past him.

Without giving McCoy a chance to retaliate, Sulu escaped from the alcove, shouting and waving his arms as he did so. He made sure to keep far enough away so that no one could unexpectedly grab him, but he moved as far away as possible from McCoy so that he would have a clear shot at Jim.

McCoy sighed in relief when he successfully caught the communicator and clutched it to his chest protectively; his reprieve was short lived though as he was back to panicking when he looked up and noticed that Sulu was gone. He quickly attempted to follow and leapt out of the alcove, searching for a fast moving blur in the moonlight with darting eyes. He spotted Sulu on the other side of the second floor; his actions had managed to draw most of the zombies in his direction, but some still remained crowded around the hallway. Sulu's gaze locked with McCoy's and he frowned at him. McCoy felt rooted to the spot.

Sulu pointed in the direction of the hallway, and then took off. He was still shouting and weaving dangerously close to the enemy, but always managed to evade it in the last second. The zombies left on McCoy's side of the floor finally noticed the new target and began to hobble in Sulu's direction; however, the way that Sulu had run meant that they would have to pass McCoy and the alcove in order to get to him.

McCoy acted quickly. He didn't want the things to spot him and become deterred from following Sulu, so he dove back into the alcove. It felt smaller than it had just moments ago as he pressed his back against the wall. His arms were crisscrossed over his chest and his knuckles paled around the communicator. He even held his breath to make himself as invisible as humanly possible. Which was ironic as he knew the zombies themselves didn't breathe either, and refusing to breathe wasn't a very human thing to do.

He stood still for a long while, and even began to feel dizzy from holding breath. The moonlight kept playing tricks on him as well, every time he thought he saw a shadow approaching it turned out just to be a trick of the light. When a figure eventually did appear walking past, McCoy gasped in a lungful of much needed air then struggled to keep himself silent. His shoulder blades hurt from the force he was pushing them into the wall but he ignored it and focused on keeping his breathing if not nonexistent then shallow at the least.

The things moved past without noticing McCoy's presence so close to them. Their shuffling gait was slow but eventually they were gone. McCoy clipped the communicator safely onto to his belt again, testing it by giving it a tug, and then leant off the wall. He placed his hands flat against the wall behind him and braced the toes of one of his boots where the wall connected with the floor. He looked like a sprinter getting ready for the starting pistol, only he felt a lot more nervous that he would have if he was actually in that scenario.

One deep gulp of air and he was ready. He pushed off the wall with his hands and foot and shot out of the alcove, praying that he wouldn't run straight into a zombies that was straggling behind the main group. He skidded at bit at the acute turn he made upon exiting the alcove, but regained his footing and sprinted down the stretch of tiles that lead to the hallway Jim had disappeared through. His eyes were drawn to battered looking cricket bat that was discarded on the floor. Without slowing, McCoy stooped to hook the handle of the bat as he ran; he gripped it tightly and carried on.

The area was basically clear. There were a few bodies littering the ground and a handful of zombies were still milling about at random interval, but none of them were any trouble for him. He reached the opening of the hallway and finally skidded to a halt. In front of him there was a vast region of darkness. He didn't know if it was just his eyes not adjusting to the dark, but it seemed to stretch on endlessly. Even his faint shadow, formed from the little amount of moonlight behind him, was being devoured by the black. He felt slightly safer by the addition of a weapon in his hand, but it still didn't fill him with confidence.

There were scuffed shoes hitting the tiles somewhere behind him, so he had to make a decision quickly. He was debating whether to take the thing at a run, or whether he should step slowly and surely. If there were more zombies down there, would it be better to knock them out of his way or sneak past them quietly? How would be know when he was nearing the end of the hallway? What if he ran full pelt into one of them? Would he be able to fight back in total darkness? What if there were loads of them waiting in the shadows for him? He might be able to win if it was one against one, but how would he fair if he was outnumbered and blind?

"Fuck it."

He kept one hand on the wall to his left, as if he was trying to find his way out of a labyrinth, held the bat defensively in the air with his other hand, and ran. It was a scary feeling, running into the unknown. The rough texture of the wall tickled his fingertips, and the bat was too heavy to keep in the air so he dropped it back to his side, but he kept running. He didn't encounter anything at first and was beginning to hope for the best, but eventually he met complications.

His wrist whipped back and he almost lost his grip on the bat. He couldn't see anything, although he didn't doubt himself, there was definitely something there and the bat had just collided with it. He wanted to keep running but his legs had other plans; he stopped and waited to see if anything made any noise. Sure enough, something groaned. It was so loud and right next to McCoy's ear. It wasn't accompanied by an exhale of air so he didn't know exactly how close it was, but McCoy had already ruled out them breathing so it might he standing right next to him for all he knew.

Cursing his own stupid at stopping, McCoy blindly swung the bat at his side. Again, it hit something at he got a groan in response, though it wasn't in pain and it didn't even vaguely resembled anything human. He scrambled to put his hand back on the wall, hoping that he was still facing the right direction, and then carried on running.

Nothing else blocked his path, and it wasn't long before his hand brushed past a door frame. The door was wide open or it might have just been empty, he didn't know, but he quickly sidestepped through it and into another pitch black room.

He knew it was probably not safe to start shouting, but he did it anyway. If it caused the zombies to find him he didn't care, he just hoped that Jim would find him first.

"Jim?!"

McCoy followed the wall next to the door frame. He ran his hand along it and quickly reached the corner of the room.

"Jim?!"

McCoy took a shaky step in the new direction and managed not to trip over anything in the process.

"It's McCoy!"

He hoped Jim could hear him. McCoy's hand hit something else, another door frame. This time, the door was shut. He tried pushing it open but it must have been locked; he felt along the front of the door and couldn't find any sort of lock. He found the handle and tried pushing it down but it resulted in nothing, the door stayed shut.

"Jim, are you in there?! It's me, McCoy!"

McCoy pounded his fist on the door after he shouted, to let whoever might be on the other side know that they weren't just hearing things and he was really there. It surprisingly also helped McCoy feel more at ease; standing in the midst of a pitch black room made him doubt things. It was like he was standing on nothing, surrounded by nothing, but the fact that he could still make noise helped consolidate his own existence.

He stopped slamming his hand on the door and waited with baited breath, wondering what would happen next. He couldn't hear any movement on the other side of the door and that worried him. McCoy had been hoping that the door would spring open as soon as he had started shouting, and Jim would be waiting on the other side. But so far, the only thing that met his voice was silence.

McCoy stood with his shoulders slumped in the darkness. The cricket bat was close to slipping out of his hand as all the fight seeped out of McCoy's body. His head dropped and his chin hit his chest; he knew he shouldn't have gotten his hopes up, everything was too easy and he had gotten ahead of himself.

Suddenly, McCoy stiffened. His body went rigid and his head shot up. There was a bright light being aimed directly at his face and he had to squint and shield his eyes with a hand. A figure was silhouetted in the doorway, but due to the blinding light and his now streaming eyes, McCoy couldn't even begin to work out who it was. Something hooked onto what was left of his shirt and dragged him forward into the room and closer to the source of the light. McCoy realized that he had no choice but to let himself be manhandled and stumbled inside. He distinctively heard the door slam shut behind him, but at the moment he didn't care, he was too busy trying to stem the constant stream of water coming out of his eyes from the impromptu blinding.

Hands rested on his shoulders, but the owner of them kept quiet and otherwise still. It took McCoy a couple of seconds to force himself to open his eyes again, and when he did, he had the urge to rub his eyes in bewilderment to prove to himself that he was seeing things. He eventually gave in to the urge and tried to clear his face of the tears, blood, dirt and sweat that must have been covering him, but he still saw the same thing went he was finished. Jim.

It was the same grin and bright eyes as he was seen countless times before and again they were being directed at him. Just like all the other times, McCoy smiled back, though his was slightly less enthusiastic. It wasn't that he was any less glad to see Jim again; this entire time it was thoughts of Jim that kept him going, it was just that if he smiled any wider the gash on his cheek would split open again and he was sure he had lost enough blood today as it was. Jim didn't seem to mind. His grin was wide enough and enthusiastic enough for the both of them.

Jim waited until it looked like McCoy had orientated himself again, before he pulled him into a hug. His arms tightened around McCoy but were quickly lifted away when he felt the still warm blood squelch. Jim's eyes widened with worry as he stepped back and forcefully twisted McCoy around so that he could see his back. The blood, from the cut the window had inflicted on him, had soaked through, turning patches of his back a funny purple colour.

McCoy's view of the world twirled again when Jim wheeled his around once more. This time, Jim's hands cupped McCoy's face and his fingers gently probed the wound on his face. His head swam from being rotated in circles, but even through the haze, he understood Jim's worry. His voice finally found him again, and he was muttering assurances to Jim before he even realized he could. He repeated, I'm fine, I'm okay, don't worry, more times in those short seconds than he was sure he had ever said in his entire life. Usually there was no one to hear them, but Jim was there and he appeared to be immersing himself in the words.

The world containing just the two of them suddenly populated when they heard a groan of pain over the top of their low tones. McCoy eyes zeroed in on the people huddled together on the couch behind Jim. One of them was bleeding profusely while the other fussed and tended to the wound as much as she could. He was reminded of the whole reason why he was here. McCoy reluctantly pulled himself away from Jim's hands and addressed the whole room.

"I don't know how long we have, I doubt Sulu will be able to keep them occupied for long, so we need to get armed and ready to this room in a matter of minutes."

He eyed the man on the couch wearily, moving him would be difficult and would undoubtedly weigh them down. The woman sitting next to him was shakily violently, so much so that she was having trouble holding onto the small blood drenched towel she had in her hand. From the look of it, leaving the man behind would not be a possibility.

"Sulu's here? What do you mean 'occupied'? What's he doing?" Jim questioned.

"He's giving you a chance and buying us some time." McCoy held Jim's gaze and made sure he understood him. "I just hope it's enough."

"Unfortunately, we are limited in our choice of weapons." Spock stopped next to Jim's elbow, effectively closing off the small circle they had formed. "It was quick thinking, on your part, for picking up the cricket bat. We are sure to need it if we are going to have to fight our way out of this."

McCoy glanced down at Spock's words. He had forgotten he was holding the cricket bat tightly in his hand. Jim and Spock were also holding bats, but with a quick scan of the room, McCoy realized that that was the extent of their defense. Though, it was more than what he and Sulu had survived on, it was hardly enough to fight off an onslaught of the living dead.

"Is this all we have?" McCoy asked, secretly hoping that they would suddenly reveal a huge barrack of weaponry to be used at their disposal.

"Sadly, yes." Jim seemed to share in McCoy's disappointment for a moment, but then he straight back to grinning. "But, hey, it's kept us alive so far, so we must be doing something right."

McCoy clapped his bandaged wrapped hand onto Jim's shoulder, marveling in his ability to keep a positive attitude, even in the face of death. It was inspiring, to say the least.

Although his hand was still bleeding underneath the bandage, he knew it wouldn't be enough to leave a bloody handprint in its wake, so when he pulled his hand back he was surprised to see a hand shaped mark on Jim's shoulder. McCoy checked his hand and was relieved to find that it wasn't dripping blood, but it still left him confused. Jim followed his gaze and awkwardly tried to get a glimpse of the mark just above his shoulder blade. A memory of Ash dragging him backwards off of a zombie flashed through his head, so he nodded towards him on the couch.

McCoy took that as an invitation to approach him. The woman backed off slightly and let McCoy work but was always within an arms reach of him. There wasn't much McCoy could do for him here, and he even admitted to himself that there was probably nothing he could do for him back on the Enterprise as well, but he certainly didn't voice that thought. McCoy grabbed the blanket bundled up on the couch and began tearing it into strips. He wound it haphazardly around the man shoulder and under his opposite armpit, crossing over his chest. The strips were uneven and the threads were quickly unraveling, but it should hold for the immediate future, he hoped.

After that, he held out a hand and helped the man to his feet. He stumbled and his legs nearly gave way, but both McCoy and the woman caught his arms before he hit the floor. To test that the man would be fit enough to escape the room, at least, McCoy made him circle the room a few times. He seemed to grow in strength each time he circled, which was a good sign; he just needed to get his muscles moving again. Until then, he needed someone to lean on in case his legs grew weak again.

Jill grabbed one of Ash's arms and pulled it over her shoulders, letting him rest some of his weight on her. It helped considerably, but it meant that neither of them would be able to wield a weapon. That left McCoy, Jim and Spock to carry the only weapons they had. Thankfully, McCoy's injured hand was his left, so he could still comfortably swing the bat if he needed to.

Eventually, they were ready. To McCoy, if felt like he had been in this room for hours when, in reality, it was less than ten minutes. He couldn't even begin to imagine how claustrophobic it must have been for Jim, who had apparently been trapped in here for many hours now.

Despite having taken the lead during his time on this planet, McCoy was grateful to step back and let Jim take charge again. He made sure to keep close to Jim as they pottered about the room, making sure that they had everything that could possibly be of use to them, and then McCoy followed Jim to the door. Jim was first, with McCoy and Spock standing less than a meter apart either side of him and Jill and Ash stayed at the back. Hopefully, the zombies would be so few and infrequent that they could be handle by only three of them and there would be no danger for the hobbling pair at the back.

"As soon as we open the door we're going to want to find the nearest exit. We can find Sulu afterwards, but our top priority is getting out, okay? Does everyone understand?" McCoy searched everyone's face; Jim's especially because he knew his plan of surviving first, and finding Sulu second, would not go over well with him. However, he was surprised to see Jim nod and accept the plan without question or needing to add to it himself, he simply understood the extreme danger they were in and knew now was not the time to argue. "Is everyone ready?"

"Almost." Jim had gone back to staring at the door after McCoy had held his gaze, so when he was the only one to quietly answer the question, McCoy was unsure whether he had actually said something or if he had imagined the sound.

Jim's hand slowly slid off the door handle, and after he had turned around, it grabbed tightly onto the back of McCoy's neck. They didn't meet each others eyes, they each just moved in closer, ignoring the fact that were trapped in a small room in the middle of a zombie apocalypse surrounded by people who were bleeding and holding weapons. Jim kissed him fiercely and without reservation and McCoy kissed back with equal enthusiasm. All the worry they had been harboring seeped away and they relaxed into each other.

When Jim finally pulled away, breathless and shaking slightly, he still avoided McCoy's eyes. He made to turn back to the door but found he couldn't. During the kiss, McCoy's hand had grasped hold of the front of Jim's shirt in his bandaged hand, and when Jim turned McCoy held him in place.

Jim's heart was pounding from the fear of what was coming and the adrenaline from the kiss and McCoy could feel it beating against his fist. He tugged down on the material he had in his hand, and finally Jim met his eye. It was only for a split second but it was enough. Quickly, Jim leaned in for one more kiss; it was short, sweet and with the lightest hint of pressure, but then his hand was gone from McCoy's neck and back on the door handle.

"Okay. Now I'm ready."

McCoy scowled at the back of Jim's head, and then at Spock, who was staring at them both with a raised eyebrow. Jill didn't say anything, though that was most likely because she was too wrapped up in keeping Ash on his feet; he was already beginning to waiver a bit like he was having trouble just holding up his own weight.

Jim unlocked the door and swept it open. Jill had left the torch resting on the couch behind them, so their shadows appeared stretched out and inhuman on the floor. The room was empty, so they breezed through it and into the hallway leading to the shops. The group seemed to move smoother than McCoy had thought they would; Ash wasn't even slowing them down since Jill was near enough dragging him along.

McCoy lifted the bat, remembering the zombie he had passed on his way up, but his efforts weren't needed as the hallway was as empty as the other room. They reached the shops without having to stop at all. Jim paused when they exited the hallway. He scanned each direction then tilted his head in question towards McCoy, silently asking which way he thought the exit was. McCoy pointed to the right, knowing they weren't far from where he and Sulu had found a way in, and that in turn wasn't far from the main entrance.

They stepped around all the bodies littering the immediate area and kept an eye open in case one of them started moving again. By the time they had reached the alcove McCoy had hid out in, the bodies disappeared and they instead trained their eyes to spot an exit.

Everywhere else they walked was empty. Their footsteps and Ash's labored breathing were the only things they could hear. McCoy wasn't sure what Sulu had planned when he ran to distract them, but it was evidently thorough.

They came across another set of stairs and stationary escalators and decided to return to the lower floor. It wasn't as useful for checking their surroundings, however, if they wanted to find a way out they would need to eventually descend to this floor.

After around fifteen minutes of searching, they spotted a small square patch of moonlight on the ground near the left wall. Jim strode purposefully towards it, with both McCoy and Spock hot on his trail. Jill struggled to keep up as she was carrying nearly twice her weight now, but when he reached them they had already found the small door to the outside that the light was streaming through.

Jim tried the handle. It turned, but when he tried to push it open it didn't move. Glancing through the glass, he could see a number of cardboard boxes piled up at the base of the door. He braced his shoulder on the door and pushed, putting all his weight into it, but the boxes still refused to budge. He tried and tried, growing increasingly more frantic and forceful each time it didn't move, until with one dramatic heave it slid open enough for someone to squeeze through. He kicked the boxes out of the way then opened the door fully letting everyone else out.

All Jim could think about was 'they were outside'. Obviously, he wasn't the only one as everyone else had stopped to stare at the sky. The moon was full and positioned directly ahead of them. It was the most inspirational, uplifting thing he had ever seen. It fueled every cell in his body and told him he needed to survive this, he needed to survive this while knowing he had done everything in his power to help everyone he could. Now that they were outside, they needed to find Sulu.

The door had led them into an alleyway that was faintly lit thanks to the moon, and judging by the striped pattern of light leading down it, there were many exits that dispersed into larger areas. Jim waited until everyone had gotten their fill of the novelty that they were outside before he began moving again.

The first exit he came across was blocked by a huge bin, but beyond that he could see the tops of heads creeping past in the same direction as they were traveling. The second exit showed the same thing; however, this time, there was no bin blocking their path. It led straight to the hoard of zombies that were now moving away from the shopping centre. Jim slowed his breathing, despite knowing full well that they wouldn't be able to hear him over the collective groaning and shuffling.

He signaled to the rest of the group that they were going to have to run past all these exits. Their footsteps should be muffled and getting away was definitely their main worry. All of them nodded in agreement, though Jill's was with wide eyes and Ash's head lolled down to his chest afterwards.

Jim was right about their footsteps being near silent compared to the noise of the zombies, and they ran past all the exits without being seen. Jim had kept glancing at them as he ran, just waiting for one of them notice the fresh meat running by so closely. At the end of the alleyway they hit a brick wall, literally. Thankfully, the last exit was the only one that wasn't blocked by zombies. Nevertheless, Jim still wasn't too keen to use it as it would lead them directly into their path and waiting hands. They were uselessly trapped again.

He turned back to the rest of the group. Spock had Ash's other arm over his shoulders as he had struggled to run with only Jill's help, and because he was taller than Jill, she was left to wrap an arm around to Ash's waist to keep him on his feet. McCoy stood right next to Jim, so close that their shoulders were touching, but he wasn't looking at Jim, he was staring at the communicator on his belt. His hand was resting on top of it like he was proving to himself it was still there. He knew they could escape now if they needed to, but he also knew that neither of them would want to without Sulu. Scotty needed them altogether in order to safely transport them back, so that's what they had to do.

McCoy looked up from the communicator with his eyebrows knitted together and defiance in his eyes, and then it slipped away as he seemed to focus on something over Jim's shoulder. Jim was standing very close to McCoy, so when McCoy suddenly cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted, it caused him to jump nearly an inch into the air. When McCoy removed his hands from his face, Jim saw he was smiling. He whirled around to face the same direction as McCoy, to see Sulu running full pelt down the alleyway, a group of no less than a hundred zombies following his lead. They squeezed themselves down the alleyway and Jim was sure the same thing was happening down all the exits.

Behind him, he heard the familiar and reassuring chirp of the communicator. Scotty's voice filled the alleyway and McCoy's voice echoed when he answered. Sulu was close now, but that also meant the zombies were close.

There was a crash from the other end of the alleyway that meant the bin was no longer blocking anyone's way.

Jim's body began to feel light, but he was unsure whether it was because of the transporters or the fact that he had stopped breathing.

Something screamed, though it sounded far away. Sulu finally reached them and was wheezing with his hands on his thighs. The first wave of zombies was now mere meters away. If one of them lunged they would have Sulu in their grasps. Jim shut his eyes.

---

Scotty was frantically pressing buttons and muttering calculations under his breath. McCoy's sudden communication had frightened him with its urgency. He just hoped he could get them in time. Finally, he had done all he could. He sat hunched forward, back tense and air trapped in his lungs.

Outlines appeared on the pads, and then they slowly formed more solid objects. Scotty counted five people. That meant that they had one survivor.

Nobody moved. It was like they were frozen on the spot. Scotty got up and carefully approached them; he didn't want to startle them.

It was the woman that moved first. The shock must have finally gotten to her because her eyes rolled back into her head and her legs gave way. Luckily, Scotty was close enough to catch her before she hit the ground. After that, everyone else seemed to deflate. Jim's shoulders dropped and he allowed himself to breathe again, McCoy slumped into the wall and sighed, Sulu actually sat down and attempted to get his breath back and even Spock stumbled unsteadily when he went over to help carry Jill.

"Where's Ash?"

McCoy looked up and weakly searched the area around them. Ash wasn't here. Jim was staring at him, waiting for him to answer.

"I guess he didn't make it."

Without taking his eyes off of Jim, McCoy addressed Scotty and told him and Sulu to take Jill down to the sick bay. Spock left with them, holding one of Jill's arms over his shoulders. He stepped closer to Jim and placed his hands on either side of his face. He had never seen Jim look so disheartened before, and it hurt him that he knew there was nothing he could do about it.

"You have to remember, he was infected." Jim tried to turn his head and tear his face free from the reassuring hands but McCoy wouldn't let him. "There was nothing we could do. He was gone the moment he was bitten."

"I know. I just wish I could have helped them more. It wasn't much of a rescue, was it? We only managed to save one person."

"Well, that's the thing. We saved someone. That woman is alive, thanks to us, and I'm sure she appreciates it. You did great. You're a great captain."

McCoy lightly kissed him. It wasn't meant to be a sexual thing; he just wanted to show him how deeply he believed in his own words. It was Jim's hands clutching at his neck that turned to kiss into something more powerful. He let it go on for a while; he waited until Jim's hands loosened on his neck before he pulled back. When he stepped away, Jim was grinning wildly at him. It sure didn't take long for Jim to bounce back, did it?

They both left the transporter room and headed towards the sick bay; Jim's hand never left the spot on McCoy's back as they walked.

"Hopefully, Jill can explain was happened." McCoy really hoped she could. He didn't like the unresolved feeling he had, and he didn't think he would be able to live without knowing all the facts.

"Speaking of what happened, what happened to you? You're cut to ribbons." Jim laughed; spirits already high again. "Even I managed to keep my shirt on this time, but you, you're missing half a shirt."

"It was a window." McCoy kept looking forward. He didn't need to see _and _hear the laughter in Jim's voice.

"A window?"

"Yep."

"You survived an entire zombie apocalypse and the only scars you have to show from it were caused by a window."

"Yep."

"And you thought I was going to be the one who would have trouble with the inanimate objects."

Jim's laughter was still ringing when they entered the sick bay. McCoy ignored him and dropped the cricket bat, which he was still carrying, at the back of the room. Jim hopped up onto one of the bed next to the one Scotty and put Jill on. He had stopped laughing but the grin was still firmly on his face.

Spock had been hovering by Jill's bed, and when Jim and McCoy walked through the door he was suddenly alert again. He was halfway to the door before he spoke.

"My shift officially started three hours ago, and with your permission Doctor, I would like to return as soon as possible."

McCoy was busy searching through a drawer for a hypospray but he still heard Spock and shot down his words without having to turn around.

"Well, you're not having it. Get back here, sit down and be quiet." He set about working on Jill, who had about a years worth of malnourishment to catch up on, and only slightly smirked to himself when he saw Spock stiffly perch himself on the bed opposite Jim's.

Scotty watched all of this from the back of the room. He had hung back after placing Jill down just in case he was needed for anything else, but it was clear everything was covered. McCoy could easily handle the four of them. He had to smile at the way Spock had obediently returned to the beds and was now sitting patiently and uncomfortably. Jim obviously found it funny as well because he was still grinning. Jim also had his eyes fixed on McCoy as he worked. Every time McCoy circled the bed, reaching for numerous hyposprays and medical instruments, Jim's eyes followed him. Scotty thought the gaze would have been unnerving, but McCoy worked as if he didn't know he was the centre of attention. Though every once and while, he would glance up at Jim and roll his eyes when he saw Jim was still staring.

The door underneath Scotty's back jumped. Straight away, he twirled around and glared questionably at the offending door, waiting tensely for it to move again. Within seconds it was shaking and Scotty found himself treading uncertainly backwards. He risked taking his eyes off the door to check if anyone else had seen or heard it, but no one else showed any sign that they had noticed it.

His eyes were drawn to the cricket bat McCoy had lent against the wall. There was obviously something in there, and he would need a weapon. With more conviction than he actually felt, he grasped the bat and faced the door. It was no longer rattling, though that still didn't help put him at ease. He could hear McCoy moving behind him and he could also here something on the other side on the door.

Scotty forced the breath out of his lungs; he hadn't realized how dry his mouth and become and it burnt as the air left his body. His trembling hand reached out and tapped the lock on the wall then, with a whoosh, the door swept open.

He barely had time to register that there was someone standing there before it leapt at him. Scotty's reflex was to swing his arms. The bat hit the thing squarely on the head and it dropped onto the floor. It didn't even make a move to get up but Scotty didn't trust it. He swung again, this time lifting the bat over his head and bringing it down with much more force than was necessary. He continued to beat the body over and over until his arms started to tingle from the bat ricocheting off the floor.

He didn't look at the body; he just let the bat slip out of his hands as he turned back around. Jim, McCoy, Spock and Sulu stood staring at him and he silently retreated from the morgue, his whole shaking. Jim came forward and slapped a hand on his shoulder, chuckling as he did so.

"We could have used that kind of enthusiasm earlier."


End file.
